Extraordinary Moments

Sometimes simple things are extraordinary.

Yesterday was just an ordinary day really--nothing spectacular. I did the usual things I always do on a Wednesday--I got Jace off to school, I went to work, I taught my classes, I ate supper in the caf. Nothing too different than normal.

But for some reason, the shackles fell off.

I'm not sure why but I was making grapefruit orange in my kitchen last night as the I have two new boxes of fruit coming next week so I need to rid my refrigerator of what's remaining. Jace was so excited to see me standing there in my apron, grapefruit and orange juice spraying every direction, as it meant lots of yumminess would greet him in the morning. And then Ed and Roy came bounding in, declaring they had a hot chocolate date and would be back shortly. Of course, Ed had to stay a few minutes to proclaim that he  wanted an apron so that he could play with a rolling pin and sugar cookie dough (the purchased kind as he didn't want to have to go to the trouble of making it). And then they left, leaving me with my sticky hands and a counter-full of fruit-shells and and far too many whirling thoughts....and then suddenly...a breakthrough.

And now I'm free.

And it feels so good.

When I picked up Lisa for tutoring yesterday morning, she came out to the car looking frazzled as she was running a tad bit late. Lisa is from Korea where teachers are treated with such respect. She holds a firm line between us but we have worked together now for almost two years so walls are finally beginning to come down just a bit. But it has been quite a piece of work to get where we are. She rarely to never shares anything personal. Sometimes I can tell she's upset but she will rarely tell me why because that, in her opinion, would be crossing a line. Teachers are there to teach. She has a strong value system and likes things just so. We are studying intensely now, however, as we are nearing the end of our time together. She is taking her final TOEFL test in mid-January so we only have 1 1/2 more weeks.

So, seeing her frazzled, I said on a whim, "Hey, Lisa, how about let's do a lesson in conversational English and I'll take you to Dunkin'. Are you game? My treat." Her eyes lit up like no tomorrow and she said, "Are you serious?" So off we went like two little school girls skipping school for the day and she chatted a mile a minute. I have never heard her talk so fast nor so much. It was absolutely adorable. And then, when I got to Dunkin', I realized.......

I'd left my purse at home.

She laughed.

Back we went to Pisgah, picked up my purse at the house, and drove back to Dunkin' for take-out instead of going inside as I'd originally intended. But when we got back to the school? She followed me into my office, pulled the chair that she always sits in when we tutor up to my desk, sat down, and chatted with me. "Do you mind if I sit here with you while I eat my sandwich?" she asked.

Are you kidding?

Lisa has my heart--has always had my heart, she just never knew it.

Sometimes our normal everyday days are filled with little moments that bring surprises that make life extraordinary.

And yesterday was one of those days for me.

Wearing Sunlight

I got my hair cut yesterday--just a trim so nobody would notice. I recently discovered this girl--Dawn-- who is about my age and I really like her (though I probably won't use her much more as she is way overpriced and I simply can't afford her). The first time she cut my hair she barely talked and I learned very little about her life. But yesterday? I got her story. And wow. She's on her third marriage; she has two sets of kids--four total. The first two are 26 and 23; second set are 9 and 11. Her oldest son just found out he has a 6 week old baby and the mom of the baby is a pot smoker living with her pot smoking parents and they deal for a living. I can't even imagine the horror that would strike my heart.

Poor Dawn. She's tired.

The entire time I was there she complained that it's the Christmas season; she doesn't feel like celebrating. She complained that it's too cold outside and the wind is bitter. She complained that when her kids visit, she can't wait for them to leave. She complained that her 9 year old girl is difficult and she can't handle her. And she complained that when it comes to parenting, she's over it.

She complained. A lot.

And I just listened.

And when I left, I felt so burdened. I mean, she definitely had a lot to complain about. And she definitely wore it on her face. She looked sad. And that made me sad.

And it made me think.

Sometimes life is just sad. Sometimes things happen that bring sadness in in their wake. Our kids make bad choices; our spouses annoy us; family strife; financial struggles; for pity's sake, we live in a complicated world with lots of grit. The list is endless. It isn't difficult to find sadness. Just look out your window. Just turn on your tv. Just open your eyes from a good night's sleep (or even a restless one)...

About a year ago, I purchased a book called The Tapping Solution by Nick Ortner. It's a little weird to be honest and I only read about half of it. But it has an interesting theory regarding tapping on some places on our body that are energy forces where "energy" gets stuck due to some type of trauma or stress. When we state the stress or trauma and tap on those places (there are 9 of them) cyclically, the energy is released and it allows the energy to start flowing again and brings relief and happiness to our state of being. Last night I noticed that "they" made a video about this. It's an hour and a half in length. They found 9 people and took them on a four day retreat--people that had been brutally injured by life: one man suffered from trauma from serving in a war; one man lost his soulmate in a traffic accident that he felt he caused; one lady had cancer, etc. By the end of the four day retreat where they taught them the art of tapping, every single one of their lives was transformed.

It was fascinating and I was inspired.

It's so easy to get caught up on the complaining train. It's the easy way out. But I want more for my life. I don't want to be stuck there. It's so ugly and it not only drags others down, it drags me down too.

My heart goes out to Dawn. Life has dealt her some swift kicks so I'm certainly not criticizing. She deserves kindness and a listening ear and I'm not immune to that. I'm just saying I want to focus on the light in the eyes of others; I want to see opportunity; I want to wake up to the joy of the Christmas season and family gatherings and blinking lights and laughter. I want to experience the beauty of now.

I want to wear sunlight on my face.

When Opportunity Rolls Around

Last night I had a whole hour before me to read or watch something mindless when I got a text from Darian:  Let's skype! I readily complied. We talked for over an hour about so many things--God and discussions they have had in class and deep topics she has talked to her roommates about and all kinds of things that make our minds burn in wonder. Fascinating conversation. Her eyes sparkled and I couldn't help but be so proud of this daughter of mine who has recognized her own ability to think for herself. She has a new lease on life and her whole life to discover what life is about.

You go, girl.

Life is all about opportunity and doing our best to stay focused on the dream.

Recently I read that when life gets dull, it's time to ask a new question. It doesn't matter your age nor does it matter your job. There are always new horizons to explore, new ventures to be made. I found that fascinating.

I tend to be "fat and happy" these days. I am tired of change, I think. Roy and I have moved way too much in our day, in my opinion. When we first married, we lived in Colorado and we loved it there. In fact, we dreamed of living there until we retired--taking sunset drives along the Rocky Mountain ridges with Dr. Pepper and tea in hand on Friday nights until the day we died. But then I graduated from college and saw no hope of getting a job and my sister said, "Come out to Southern California! They are hiring teachers by the hundreds!" And so we did. Hopped in our car on a whim one Wednesday morning and made the 1000 mile trek, just the two of us, to see what could happen. You can do a lot with no kids in tow. And within a couple of days, we both had contracts making triple the money we currently made and so we journeyed back home, loaded up a small u-haul, and ventured to California for a brand new adventure. Sometimes I look back, shake my head, and think, Who does that?

But we were young; the world was at our feet. We had dreams and laughter and the shrug of our shoulders...so off we went.

But this last time we moved (from Missouri to North Carolina) I noticed a difference. I wasn't as "quick on my feet" to bounce back, to reach out to others, to become a part of a community. My resilience is waning. I need roots; it's time to settle down for good. So I guess the question is: where.
And I say that because our current house is a rental. I want to own my own home--yearn for that actually. I don't know how so I'm not making any proclamation, not saying I'm going anywhere. I'm just saying I have dreams...

Over Thanksgiving when my sister's family was here, Chas (my brother in law) told me how his cats love the cat door they installed in their home and how convenient it is. I found that rather baffling as they have a rental and in my head, a cat door is something you cut into a literal door. I expressed my surprise that they mutilated a rental house's door and the landlord didn't mind and he laughed. "No," he said. "It's a gadget that you install in a window!" He proceeded to show me a picture on google and I immediately demanded that Roy get me one. And so Roy went to work and several hours later, I had a "cat door" installed in our living room window, complete with a catwalk so the cats can reach it from the outside. It's quite clever though it looks like, in my opinion, PWT (Poor White Trash). In fact, I laugh every single time I look at it. Like...seriously???

Anyway, we have had no problem training the cats to go out the cat door. In fact, they love it. And Bax, our deaf cat, figured out rather quickly that he can even come back in the cat door! Brilliant! But Sparti? Not so much. He gets that he can go out. And so he does. And then he circles around to the patio door...and meows to get back in. So I pick him up, carry him back around to the outside entrance and show him the entrance that lets him get back in and he's like Oh!! every time. So surprised!

Every. Time.

Brilliant he's not.

And so...I don't want to be so "fat and happy" that I miss a good opportunity when it comes around. I don't want to stop asking questions.

Sometimes it's okay to simply shrug my shoulders and say... why not. 

One Step at a Time

"Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies." Nelson Mandella

I have spent the past few days feeling really resentful; angry. I have hidden in my house and nursed my wounds quietly--lost in my own world of despair. It's fairly miserable.

I chose to marry a rather controversial figure. He is much like a bull in a china closet--stepping in headlong and speaking loudly without always thinking about how others may interpret his words or intentions. But he has such a good heart and despite his obnoxious ways at times, he means well and has a deep loves for kids. Two of my kids are much like their dad and so, between the three of them, my protective armor is often triggered.

It's tricky--this road of feeling so protective and wanting everyone to see what I see.

On Fridays, I show an inspirational video to my freshmen and it's their favorite part of the week. In fact, I don't dare try to skip it or they throw a fit. So yesterday, I showed them a youtube video that I watched earlier with Katy Perry. It highlights this little girl who is about ten years old and has autism. It shows how her parents have struggled with her, struggled with teaching her any sort of social graces. It shows her screaming endlessly and the frustrations and pain her parents experienced for this  little child that had their hearts and yet they couldn't reach her. And then one day she discovered music and she began to play. And then she began to sing. She loved Katy Perry and so she learned to play and sing her songs, putting them up on youtube. Katy Perry must have somehow seen them or heard about this so she invited her to sing with her at a concert. It's priceless and sweet and the first time I saw it, it made me cry.

So I showed it to my freshmen, expecting them to appreciate the struggle of this little girl (the singing is average). And many did. But one student covered his ears and said I can't listen to this. Another student said This is boring.

I sighed.

Sometimes you just can't fight perspective.

There have been times in my life when I have thought it would be easier to just stay inside my house and never leave--never speak a word--because we simply can't control how others perceive our words and actions. But we would miss out on so much living.

I remember hearing a story about Oprah one time where she talked about hating a girl who hurt her. She spent years resenting her, nursing her own personal wounds. And then, after six years of pouring so much energy into this passionate resentment, she passed this bitter enemy on the sidewalk. And the enemy was laughing. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in unabashed laughter, wide open pleasure. And Oprah realized in that moment that the only person her resentment and anger and misery had hurt for that entire six years was herself. She determined from that moment forward that she would never again harbor a grudge but, rather, would choose to let it go and move forward.

And so today I am going to leave resentment in the dust. Today I choose to take a deep breath; today I choose to move forward.

Taking for Granted

We take so many things for granted in life--rising sunsets that paint the sky shades of gold and bring promise of a new day, changing seasons, heat in the winter, air conditioning in the summer, the Internet, loved ones, the list is endless.

When I was a little girl, one of my very first memories is my mom asking me what I wanted for lunch. "Spaghetti," I said. And so she went to work making homemade spaghetti sauce. It wasn't one of those Let's open a jar of Prego kinds of sauces but rather one of those fry up some hamburger (as we weren't veggie on those days and add some tomato sauce--most likely home-canned as Mom always had a garden and worked herself to the bone--and throw in some spices and cook it all day so that the house smelled delicious in every corner kind of sauces...as I watched from a bar stool, my chin resting on my hands.

Mom was always there. When I got off the school bus and yanked open the door, yelling, "MOM!" there she was, usually in the kitchen, her presence bringing security to my day.

When Dad left, I was fifteen years old and both of my sisters were off exploring adulthood, so it was just Mom and me in Edmond, Oklahoma, experiencing life in a small home in the suburbs by ourselves. Mom was devastated and I quickly became her world. She worked as a teacher at the small school I attended, and so once we were home together, I would tell her every single detail about my day and she would soak it all in, asking questions and listening intently. She laughed and cried with me and she was absolutely, without question the best friend I had in the world. She was my role model for how I raised my own teenage daughters because I well-remember how very very much her attentive ear meant to me during those days of insecurity and teenage angst.

Once I left for college, I felt so sad for Mom, knowing that she would be alone in that house and would miss me  so much. I felt terribly for her and so one cold fall day, I called her. "How are you, Mom?" I asked, preparing myself for the pain in her response. "I'm fine!" she replied. "I'm so busy I hardly have time to think about the fact you're gone!"

That's Mom. Ever practical.

And then I got married. My newfound husband whisked me away to Colorado and then California where our firstborn child came along. Born with a devastating chromosomal condition, we called Mom with the news, and she boarded a bus and headed our way, bearing prayer and hope and a suitcase. She stayed two years and helped us care for our precious Ciara who outlived expectations.

But here's the thing. Mom stayed up nights. She cooked. She prayed. She waited on us. She built her life around us. She made life as easy as possible for her child who was going through her own sort of hell.

Ciara lived eighteen months and then she gently passed away. Mom started to pack up her suitcase but I begged her please don't go as it was just too much loss all at once. And so she stayed a few more months and then she quietly went back home to Oklahoma where she resumed her own life and we resumed ours.

Though Mom has never lived with us since, she visits often. And when she comes, she brings her computer and she goes about her business. She writes, She takes walks, often taking her "granddogs" with her along the way. She prepares plates of fruit for her grandkids and her kids. And? She stands at the sink and she washes dishes. Lots and lots of dishes. Whatever she can do to make life easier? That's what she does. Because...

That's Mom.

I've written quite a lot a lot about my dad recently because he has come back into my life. I've missed him for thirty years and so I am just so excited, so grateful to have this man back.

But my mom? She never left. She's always been there. She's a piece of me -- like my arm or my leg. She's solid and secure. She's a rock. And I'm so glad, so very very glad, that she's my mom.

A Cup of Cheer

My girls left this morning at 4:30. They tiptoed in our bedroom, using a cellphone as light so they didn't trip on anything, came to the edge of our bed, whispered, "We're leaving now!" and then whisked back out as our sleep-filled voices echoed "Be safe!" behind them. They attempted leaving last night around 7:00, but Savana called me at 7:45. They were at exit 33--4 miles away from exit 37 where they started after 45 minutes of "driving" in dead-stop traffic. So they did a quick turn around and came home. They had Julia with them--a precious girl I haven't seen since she was about ten. Her family lived at Wisconsin Academy at the same time we did and they are now at Fletcher Academy, so she was riding with them back to Southern. So before I went to bed last night, I brought down a stack of bedding and gave specific orders for the girls to just simply roll out of bed and leave everything alone. I have the day off today and will have plenty of time to wash sheets, make beds, fold blankets--don't worry about it!

But this morning when I turned the light on in Darian's bedroom, there stood a perfectly made bed and perfectly folded blankets and a bundle a sheets to wash. The trundle was placed back underneath Darian's bed and her room is in pristine condition.

Those girls. They are somethin' special. Even at 4:30 in the morning.

So yesterday we put our Christmas tree up. I really felt like being a scrooge this year as we are traversing to Oklahoma for the week of Christmas. It's such a hassle--putting up all of the decorations and lights and the tree...and then taking it all down. But then Jace made the comment a couple of weeks ago, "I am so excited, Mom! It's almost Christmas and that's my favorite time of year! I love the lights and all of the decorations! And I can't wait to have our tree up! When are we going to put our tree up?? And then there's all of the presents under the tree and it's all just so much fun and I just can't wait!" So of course I groaned inside and smiled outside and said, "I know, Jace! It is so much fun!" And began the plans to forgo being a scrooge a few more years.

He is eleven so his childhood is waning. I need to make the most of it while I can.

So we chose yesterday as THE day to run to Walmart and grab a tree. We tend to be spontaneous about that sort of thing. I always admire families that go to Christmas tree farms and make a day of it but we have never made such an adventure. Maybe one of these days we will take the time...but we always seem to have too many "irons in the fire" and an entire day dedicated to getting a tree isn't on the agenda. So we found the perfect tree--which really is quite beautiful, I might add--paid for it, and then skirted over to Sam's Club. Darian and Jace were rather squished in the backseat as we had to put the backseat down in order to fit the tree in the trunk. Roy is a bit particular about things (strange, I know, as most people don't know that about Roy --kidding) and refuses to tie the true on the hood, so Darian handled the squished part like a trooper; Jace? Not so much. Then we ran into Sam's and bought this huge box of ornaments as I remembered that my ornament collection had become slim pickin's. Then we came home and got to work.

In the midst of all of that, Ryan and Chris, Darian's high school buddies, called and came over and entertained us while we decorated. They are so funny and silly and just downright great kids so it was a genuinely good time filled with lots of laughter and chatter and fun.

So now here I am--alone in my living room while the girls are off to school and Jace is sleeping upstairs. I ran up a few minutes ago to ask him if he'd like to join me and sip on a cup of steaming hot chocolate topped with whipped cream in front of the blinking Christmas tree, complete with quiet conversation and some Christmas music. What a perfect way to start your day! He rolled over and went back to sleep. So it's just me, the blinking tree, an empty cup of chai, my white kitty that isn't very smart trying to knock balls off the tree, and my iPad. But that's okay. We, at least, have the Christmas spirit.

So here's a cup of cheer...

A Life of Learning

We are all teachers. I think that everybody has something to share, something to give--and if we are open to the "gifts" of others, we can learn from the people we encounter in our lives. I was thinking about that last night, and thinking about the different ways I have been changed forever because of things people have shared with me over the years. Here are just a few of them:

• EBT (Emotional Brain Training) At first glance, this appears to be hocus pocus. I actually shared this program with a couple of friends who were struggling but when they checked into it they ran scared and that's okay. My amazing friend in every way Jacque shared this with me when we first moved here to North Carolina. It's a one year program that helps you process your emotions in a new way--teaches you to think from the prefrontal cortex of your brain which allows you to experience more joy than stress. It is a scientifically proven strategy that works. Oh my goodness. It has changed my life forever! I can't even begin to explain the profound effect EBT has had on me. There is no possible way to explain it properly in a paragraph so I won't even try but Jacque introduced it to me in a time of profound stress and I am so very very glad that she did.
• My friend Tammy flippantly talked about how she and Bob got through med school financially one time by figuring out how much spending money they had each month and then dividing that by 30 and then giving themselves a daily allowance. The light bulb went off in my head and she transformed our financial life. Since moving to North Carolina Roy and I have been financially stressed as I have made less money than EVER--probably since my girls were babies--and it has been very stressful as I have two in college and one in elementary school. But since she shared this strategy, the stress is gone (well, mainly) as I've worried much less about money these days and we've made the almighty dollar stretch farther than ever before. Thanks, girl!
• I just spent 3 days with my sister Tami. Oh my goodness. My heart is so sad this morning that I could cry just thinking about the fact that she is gone. Every time I am with her it is just sheer fun and I am reminded of the beauty of family. Somehow I don't think that God intended for families to be spread across the country but rather live together in the same communities--or at least in close proximity as nobody gets you or loves you like family. Whether it's my nieces or nephews or my brother in law or my sisters--they are all just somethin' special in my heart and it gets harder and harder saying good-bye. But Tami? She always teaches me how to let go. She seems to have that down pat. She seems to just shrug everything off--no matter. She sees the good in people and nothing seems to get her down. I am reminded of that when we talk or when we're together--just about every time.
• My mom has many many strengths. But I wasn't exactly raised in an organized home. We cleaned the house faithfully once a week but the in-between times, we--at least in my memory--kind of let it go. So when Roy and I first got married, we had a lot of arguments about that. He was raised in a neat-freak home and I wasn't and neat-freak wasn't my style. Then I met the Schnell's. They moved in on a Monday and a few days later (like maybe three?) I went over to meet them and their house was unpacked, in pristine order, pictures hung. I was astounded. And so I sat at Kerrie's feet and learned. She taught me that she never went to bed with the kitchen a mess. She straightened the pillows on the couch before she left the living room. She never procrastinated a cleaning job. She changed my life. I'm by no means a Kerrie Schnell, but I am much, much better.
• I could go on forever. I have been so blessed to have so many many friends and family that have blessed me with so much over the years. And my kids are nothing short of phenomenal teachers themselves: Savana with her style; Darian with how she embraces life; Jace with his wit. I have great parents. But I am short on time now and my day is beckoning. Roy is currently downstairs rinsing dishes and I know any minute he is going to be chomping at the bit to get started on this day and wondering why I am taking so long to join him. So ... I shall bring this to a close by just saying that today I am grateful for the "teachers" in my life and looking forward to many, many more years of learning.