Treading Water

When I was a young girl, my sister Melanie was like a fish in water. She not only tanned beautifully, she swam beautifully. She was the quintessential Southern California beach babe.

I, on the other hand, was a redheaded, fair-skinned treader. I was very, very good at treading water.

When we were in grade school, our parents kept our bathing suits and beach towels in the trunk of our car. This may seem a bit odd, but in Southern California in the 60s, not everyone had a pool in their backyard and we were a member of the pool-less club.

Often, we would head out to see friends on hot summer days, especially on Sunday afternoons following church. We would be sweating against the plastic covered back seats, wishing for a/c (something else not everyone had, and we again were part of the a/c-less crowd) until we parked at the curb in front of a friend's home and jumped out of the car. And then we would hope....!

Hope was everything on those hot days to two Southern California girls.

We were never allowed to ask our parents' friends if we could swim, even if their kids were in the pool. Even if we were sweating rivulets. Even if HOPE was beaming from our silently begging eyes. And even if Marco Polo (our favorite game) was underway.

My parents made it clear that asking was rude; so we waited, mutely counting the passing minutes of lost swim time until finally someone would comment that it was too bad we hadn't brought our suits. But wait! Weren't our suits ALWAYS in the trunk of our car? Yes!! (My mother was brilliant!)

And off we would go, my sister and me, quick-change artists diving into a deep, cool swimming pool without a moment's hesitation. One tan, one white, both thrilled to be swimming - or treading - again.

Life isn't much different than swimming. Some of us easily swim along with the flow, some choose to make it more difficult and swim upstream, some are show-offs and love to cannon ball through life, some of us never really learn to swim at all (my grandma Mimi never learned to swim, she wouldn't even fill her bath more than 2" deep for fear she would drown), and sadly, some of us do drown; then there are those of us who end up treading water when we least expect it, no matter how many swim lessons or life lessons we've experienced.

Treading is not my chosen way of life, it just happened. Swim lessons began when I was 5, and I loved them and always passed; I even certified as a Junior Lifeguard (Melanie, of course, was a full-fledged Lifeguard). The point is, I have always enjoyed swimming, but I often prefer to just tread water and watch everyone else frolic around, making mental notes as I wait to join in the fun at the right moment, or in the right game, or with the right partner.

Similarly, downtime following the loss of a job has its moments, and I've certainly made the best of them, but surrounding those fun-filled moments of travel and leisure are large pools of empty time that must be endured. So here I am, treading again, only this time I'm treading time, not water. Still watching, still making mental notes. Just waiting to jump in at the right moment, or with the right company, or for the right job.

Treading definitely has its benefits. It allows a person to save their energy, plan their strategy, breathe evenly, enjoy the view, think clearly, strengthen their talents, assess their assets (and maybe some others), and bide their time, all the while staying involved from a safe distance on the sidelines - observing quietly, considering the next move. Treading has been good for me.

Soon, as always happened in the pool, someone or something will come along and force me to take a deep breath and duck under the water with a quick push off the side, or break into a still-not-perfect crawl stroke to carry me to the other end of the pool.  In any case, I will love the rush, the thrill of change, the soothing satisfaction of knowing that, as nice as treading has been,  I can - and will - do whatever it takes to get wherever I need to be. All with appropriate exceptions, just as my parents taught me so long ago - I won't be rude, or mean, or dishonest, or unethical.

I may regret that I was never really a fish in water, but I am ever grateful that in my life I've never felt like a fish out-of-water. Even now, between jobs, between homes....I'm in a good place and treading easily.

I think I'm almost ready; I may need a little more treading time before I finally drop to the bottom, bend my legs, pump my arms and push off, but I'm close. I love that moment when I burst upwards and break through the surface with a smile on my freckled (and now wrinkled) lily-white face. I love it when life finally makes sense again, after a period of tread-ful wondering.

It feels triumphant. It feels joyous. It feels new, and life-giving, and right. It's rejuvenating. I can hardly wait!

Those are the moments we live for, we work for, we strive for, but treading is part of the plan. After all, isn't much of life spent "treading water" as we wait for those exceptional ah-ha moments of clarity, of love, and of success? What would we do in between, if not for treading? Treading keeps us honest. It keeps us busy. It keeps us out of trouble. Sometimes it saves our life.

Treading - patiently waiting, planning, pondering - has a place in our lives, even if we think we are ready to jump.  So tread on....I know I will, because as I said above, "I am very, very good at treading water."

As for Melanie, she's still tall and tan....and a swimmer, but oddly after decades of summers apart, we are finding ourselves in the same pool again. Unemployed and treading. But not for long...

Hey Melanie?

Marco....!

Life As I Know It

I'm one of those people that always thinks the best of others.  I trust. I hope. I believe. This isn't always good.

But, in spite of my inclination to be positive, there are days when it's not as easy as it should be. I've had a few of those recently, and splattered throughout my life; dotted between the highs of children and grandchildren - births, weddings, graduations, missions, performances, or even those rare family vacations or amazing road trips, or when immersed in a good book or soul-touching music or conversations with good friends.

If it wasn't for the highs of faith, friends and family, those dark splotches of disappointment would have blotted my life to a dull shade of gray. And yet, it's so easy to take them for granted. The highs are often underestimated and undercelebrated.

How grateful I am for simple faith, family time, leisurely strolls and honest talk. We spend our lives racing around on the fast track , walking and talking at a rapid pace, and making time for family and faith only when it's convenient.

But then, there comes a moment of clarity as we mature. It's painful. It's hard to accept. But it's real, and it comes...trust me. And in the moment we realize, with a remorse beyond description, that somewhere along the line our focus shifted, our life spun out of control, the darkness took over and we missed the point. We let our life race by, or run over us, or drag us along. We didn't live our life, it lived us. We suddenly realize how much time we wasted.

I've done this. I am guilty. And I am sorry. Sorrier than anyone could ever know, except someone who has experienced this sudden awakening, this reality that there isn't a second chance.

Early in life, you have the opportunity to marry the right person, you have one chance to raise your children, and you have one shot to start early and build a life of  financial responsibility. Once that "one" time has past, all is not lost, but you can never go back and redo what was done, or not done.

I don't think kids realize this. I know I didn't. It was something that I just didn't think about. If anyone had asked, I would have told them that at 56 I would be happily putting my last kid through college, looking for a place to retire, and enjoying time with my grandkids. But life didn't turn out that way, and part of the fault is mine - maybe all of it - because I didn't have a real plan. I could have answered the question, but I didn't have a plan.

I do now. It's too late to go back and redo. It's too late to be less trusting and more cautious. It's too late to enjoy curling my fingers through Kurt's blond curls again, or snuggle in bed with Kollin, or make it to Kelly's parade, or spend more time reading with Kyle, or be home more for Karynn, or listen more carefully to Kalen. It's too late.

It's too late to look at the kid's Dad and say "This isn't about us, it's about the kids. We're a family, let's do this."

It's too late to not rush into a rebound marriage. It's too late. It's done. But as I told my daughter, I can only hope that my kids have learned how NOT to do things because of my mistakes, as much as they may have learned how TO act when I've made correct decisions. It's the only silver lining in this mess of a once-only life that I know. I pray that they learn from my mistakes.

But I refuse to let remorse or sorrow darken the days I have left on earth. I refuse to let disappointment in people whom I trusted send me spiraling into depression or despair. And I refuse to waste even another minute of my life on someone else's dishonesty or immorality or disloyalty.

I still believe in people. I still wake up positive and ready for a new day. I still refuse to let the dark splotches of disappointment and negativity and betrayal and failure - in others and in myself - define who I am.

Because I am happy, I am excited, and I am about to begin the next chapter in my life! And this is the life that I know and love. My life. And I claim it, I own it, I take responsibility for it - the good and the bad. And I have a plan this time, so watch out. I'm going to take charge, but I am going to hold others accountable too.

We all have a moral responsibility to be cognizant of how our lives weave into the lives of others, and to be careful, and respectful, and responsible when dealing with friends, family, coworkers, partners, colleagues, those we pass on the street, employees and employers. And those who don't realize this and live by it, will not succeed. Those who do, are not promised a smooth ride, but at least they can bounce over the bumps with head held high.

It's a new day. And my chin's up.  Bring it on.

Love, Life, Liberty

Today was a day of reflection. After 21 days in South America, more than half spent working (but always having fun, cuz that's my style), it's time for me to regroup.

As always, the topics that come to mind are Faith, Friends, Family, Finances, Fysical Health :), and Fun, or maybe it's easier to just say Love, Life, Liberty. You may think I'm simplifying with the L's, over the F's, but I'm really not.

Love. It's all about relationships. And honor. Relationships with god, with friends, with family, with colleagues, with yourself. It has to be reciprocal, it has to be respectful, it has to be honest. Relationships can't be forced or pretend. And they must be honored.

Life. It's everything. Simply everything. Choices that make life better, or worse, involve everything and everyone: people, things, places, actions, thoughts. Laughter is truly the best medicine when life gets you down. Life is not a rehearsal. It's a one-time shot. So live, take chances. Learn from your mistakes and keep moving forward.

Liberty. It's about freedom. From guilt, from debt, from disloyalty, from dishonesty, from poor health, from boredom. A safe haven for life. A way of living. The only way to live, actually. Free. Aware of your limitations and respectful of them, but free to live and love. Free, that is,  to live with respect for others. Free to live with honor in your deeds. Liberty. Freedom. A cause worth fighting for. A way of life worth living.

I know who I am. It's taken more than 3 decades to figure it out. I suppose I could continue to be hard on myself for taking so long to "grow up" (I've certainly beat myself up over and over during the past twenty years), but I am choosing to celebrate the fact that I've arrived.

And I have. I'm here. I'm wide awake and smiling. No hiding, no pretending, no false hopes, no selective awareness. I've arrived. I'm here. I'm aware. I'm alive.

Life hasn't been terrible, but it certainly hasn't been what I expected. And at times it's felt like a really long haul, but I made it. I'm here and hopeful, because when one door closes, another opens. Maybe more than one.

Today I am choosing. And I've chosen love, life and liberty. And not just for me.

My Return to Sanity

After 5 months of attempting to blog on my "other" blog - DC(undercover) - I have exited stage left and returned to Gia's Outpost. I love this blog, I love who I am here, I love where it started.

I'm back - or almost. Right now I am in Santiago, Chile after spending time here and in Buenos Aires, Argentina for both work and pleasure. For Christmas, actually. I had an amazing time.

2010 has been an important year for me. I made a move to DC for a job and cause that I love. I have traveled to South America and met amazing people. I was able to spend time with Kurt and Ashley and their family in Santiago where they are living for six months with Start Up Chile.

There are critical parts of my life that still aren't what they should be, but I'm working on them

My kids are safe and good and happy. My grandkids are healthy and growing and fun.

My life is good, for the most part. And I am relatively happy.

And I am returning to sanity. Blogging here is the first step.

I'm almost ready for a hike.

PS Click here > DC(undercover) if you want to read my August - December 2010 blog entries.

Yoga Moves

8 AM. That is when my moving van was supposed to arrive earlier today. It's now 5 PM and no moving van.

No moving van, and no phone call to let me know they are delayed, lost, drinking beer, in need of a nap, overturned on the freeway, stuck in Phoenix, visiting relatives, or whatever the excuse might be.

I am supposed to be moving to DC today; instead I am sitting on my couch in Albuquerque. Waiting. Stalled. Totally suspended. Reflecting.

There are other times in my past life that I remember as feeling frozen in time with no control over my intended progress. Failed marriages, teenage trials, employment frustrations. Times when the decision that was altering my life and controlling my immediate destiny was not my own. Someone else made a decision that changed my plans, my life, that day or forever.

As I have learned from these past experiences, there's not much I can do about someone else's choice or action. But I can definitely choose better for myself. I can adapt, I can be positive, be flexible - to a point, anyway.

So, I am changing airfares, advising my new boss that I will not be arriving at my brand spankin' new DC dream job tomorrow. And I am doing a lot of deep breathing.

Flexibility. Deep Breaths. Reality Suspended. Absentee Movers.

Ommmmmm.

When the Tables Are Turned

I find it so interesting that some people feel they are entitled to forgiveness, patience, understanding and more, but are not willing to reciprocate with even a modicum of similar accommodation of others.

Although I am not immune from being insensitive at times or having the very worst possible timing, the one factor I hope I always consider and will never lose, is the human factor.

The human side of me that remembers that we are all humans, just people trying to get through life - with families, and grandkids to see, and bills to pay.

And I hope I am a person that remembers that certain things in life may seem obvious at first glance, but are anything BUT what they seem on second glance.

Sometimes responsibility has nothing to do with it. Sometimes making an exception isn't the issue. Sometimes it's just about being human. And sometimes people forget that.

Sometimes I wish that I could turn the tables and let the other person feel and experience the fall-out of their own self-importance, but that would make me the same as them and that's not who I am or want to be.

One thing will not change, however. I refuse to ignore the human factor, to put regulations and ill-advice before relationships. And I don't have time for prima donna's, or to repeat junior high. Been there, done that, couldn't deal with them then and never even wanted to buy the t-shirt.

If patience is a virtue, then forgiveness must be a golden virtue. But today, all I can manage is silver.

However I am in NM, the land of turquoise and silver, and it appears that silver is all that's expected.

I guess I am going to have to look elsewhere for gold.

Does It Rest Well on My Heart?

I never bought a WWJD bracelet.

However, I did ask myself the question on occasion.WWJD? What WOULD Jesus Do?

But in the past few days I have been exposed to two variations of the 90's message bracelet, both communicated with words. No metal involved at all.

Today Siobhan Magnus, the most recent cast off from American Idol said the following: "I do what I do because it rests well on my heart and it is who I am."

ME: How lucky that at her age she knows who she is. And to make choices based on how they rest on your heart...what a perfect concept. I want to live my life making every decision with the qualifying requisite that it rests well on my heart. I wish I had done this my entire life. However I am not going to make a DIRWOMH bracelet.

And earlier this week, I was reading a profile on FaceBook and read the following (slightly edited to protect the privacy of the author) with my thoughts immediately beneath each quoted paragraph:

HER: "Favorite things to do and things that are interesting to me: Hanging out with my awesome family, U.S., Roman, Greek and Egyptian history, politics, public policy, pointing out -- and being annoyed by -- hypocrisy and bad behavior in the political classes regardless of party affiliation, trying to make every days' decisions in a way that will glorify God. I would travel every week if I could."

ME: Wow. I wish that was my profile. I want to be like that! I wish that was how I thought of myself, and how others knew me. I love hanging out with my awesome family, and I love history (although I haven't taken the time to study it in my adult life), and I am increasingly annoyed by hypocrisy and bad behavior in politics, whether it be a candidate, elected official, political party or pundit, or over-the-top grassroots groups. And more than anything I wish I was making my decisions in a way that will glorify God...I need to remember him more. And I would definitely travel every week if I could, and often do.


HER: "I come from a close family - pretty much all of them (except my Mom) still live in Massachusetts and I miss them every single day."

ME: I have a close family - and although most of them live in Utah, in recent years we have been spread throughout the nation. I miss them every single day.

HER: "My best friend is Kelly, and my aunt, who's 92, is still one of the most fun people on the planet. I am adopted, and have a great relationship with my birthmom and siblings who I met 12 years ago."

ME: My best friend is Dee, and all three of my daughters, the four most fun people on the planet. My Mom was adopted and I am beginning a relationship with her birth-relatives through FaceBook and hope to meet some of them someday.

HER: "I have two kids, two cats, one great husband and a lot of deer to eat my plants. I love my work so much that it is my hobby too."

ME: I have six kids, eight grandkids, a borrowed dog, a husband living in another state and lots of out-of-control plants in my backyard that desperately need deer to eat them. I love my work and the associations it allows so much that it is my hobby too.

HER: "I am an unapologetic conservative, but not a fan of political mockery, so I don't put photos of Obama on my website where he looks like the Joker, or has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. This is difficult as I believe that Obamafear transcends traditional politics and this is the first time ever that I have been truly afraid for my country, or what will be left of it when he's done."

ME: I am an unapologetic conservative, but not a fan of political mockery, so I don't put photos of Obama on my website where he looks like the Joker, or has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. This is difficult as I believe that Obamafear transcends traditional politics and this is the first time ever that I have been truly afraid for my country, or what will be left of it when he's done.

HER: "I used to be wretchedly selfish and made lots of really stupid decisions until one day when my friend Pam brought me to Bent Tree Bible Church in Plano, Texas and Jesus leaped into my heart, nearly knocking me over in the process. (Literally) Previously a disillusioned Catholic, I was "born again" - a term I previously mocked - and I have never looked back. I believe with all my heart that His death provided me with eternal life, that He walks beside me every where I go, and am grateful that He accepts me the way I am, sins and human failings included."

ME: I consider myself at times to be wretchedly selfish and prone to really stupid decisions, in spite of my 'conversion'  26 years ago. I don't remember Jesus leaping into my heart, but I do remember reading the scriptures on my couch in the little apartment in San Bernardino, CA and feeling a warmth through my body as I FELT the truth of the gospel in my soul.  I believe with all my heart that His life and death provided me with the opportunity of eternal life if I live appropriately. I want to believe that He walks beside me every where I go, but I don't think I invite him along as often as I should, and I am inadequately grateful that He accepts me the way I am, sins and human failings included.

HER: "I am now a proud member of McLean Bible Church, and cheat pretty much every day on prayer, as I feel closer to God through music and song than anything else."

ME: I am now a quiet and faithful member of my church, but not as outwardly active as is politically correct and expected, and admittedly not as diligent as I could be,  and I cheat pretty much every day on normal, accepted prayer, as I am only able to concentrate on my thoughts and supplications when just about anywhere but kneeling beside my bed. I think this can be traced back to being a young mom at the side of her bed with children knocking on the door or bursting in. I wasn't the type who could just continue praying (which would have been the perfect lesson through example), so my prayers often ended before they really began. 

HER: "Every day I wake up and wonder if I can find a way to tell the men and women of our Armed Forces that I love each and every one of them, and I keep them in my musical prayers every day."

ME: Every day I wake up and wonder if I can find a way to tell the men and women of our Armed Forces and the missionaries in the field that I love each and every one of them, and I keep them in my thoughts and prayers every day.

HER: "I am delighted at the kind, funny, delightful woman my daughter has turned out to be and amazed at the deep faith and patriotism that lives in my son's heart."

ME: I am beyond delighted at the kind, funny, enjoyable and authentic persons my children have turned out to be and amazed at the depth of conviction each has to their own principles.

HER: "Somedays I still want to kick the cat or slam the door, but mostly, I'm just grateful."

ME: Ditto. Even if it doesn't rest well on my heart.


Bottom line: Two women I didn't even know have made a huge impact on my life by their example and their words. Someday I will tell them.

And when I do, that will rest well on my heart.

Sunset from a Different Porch

If there is comfort in structure, it makes perfect sense that there is discomfort where there is a lack of structure, i.e. chaos.

This explains a lot.

There isn't a day in my life that doesn't have some chaos in it, and it's in the hours following those uncomfortable moments of confusion, panic or stress that I suddenly realize that my life is often more chaos than structure. 

And always has been.

Oh, I have had days, possibly even weeks, of structure throughout my lifetime. But that calm, serene, still- small voice time has rarely been sustainable for me. 

And I think it's my fault.

I am not one to sit still for long. I get bored. I want to keep learning, meet new people, try something for the first time, read a new book, make a new friend, explore a new destination, greet a new challenge, see a sunset from a different porch...

I am in a love/hate relationship with change. On a daily basis.

Morning brings excitement for a new day of opportunity, daytime fulfills that expectation - sometimes too much - and nightfall comes with a sense of accomplishment tainted with the unsettling emotion of feeling unanchored, even unsteady.

It's almost like being sea sick.

Sometimes life seems to be rocking when I want it to roll. And as soon as I regain my balance, another wave of change knocks me back to my knees.

And sometimes I actually stay there.

Kneeling is a good place to be when you are feeling tossed and turned by life's storms. It also usually means you will be still for a short period of time. At least for me, it does. I am never tempted to kneel-walk once I hit the ground. I am just there. Still. Kneeling. Asking. Hoping. Listening.

Be still, and listen. 

No wonder kneeling is the best position for prayer. It forces us to stop for a moment, or longer. And that's when we can listen for that still, small voice. 

On our knees.

But once that's over, the listening complete, it's up and at 'em again. Lights, camera, action. Life jerks us up from that nearly perfect moment of calm introspection and off we go with our reddened knees and humbled spirits to fight the good fight one more day.

And that's not such a bad thing.

Especially if after a chaotic day of balancing time with tasks, and money with expenses, and energy with to-do lists......there's fresh air, a walk through the neighborhood, dinner with friends, soft music in the background, jeans and a t-shirt, fuzzy slippers, a warm quilt, loving family, good food and laughter. Another day of craziness is not such a bad thing if there's a safe place for us to escape to at the end of the day.

Home. The safe haven from the tumultuous chaos of life.

And for someone like me - who loves change and hates it too, who craves the warm comfort of home as much as the call of the road - the importance of comfortable structure in the midst of life's chaos could be life changing, if not life saving.

Family and home should always be my safe haven; faith, my anchor. An honest day's work too. And those calm, quiet moments of stillness on my knees. These should be the source of my comfort, the  foundation of my life's structure. I need that. We all do.

Because there's always going to be a new friend, a new book, a new experience and a new destination in my future. There will always be change and chaos at some level. I can't avoid it, and I don't want to. That's who I am. That's who I have always been. And that's who I want to be (with enough structure in the mix to keep me, and those around me, sane and anchored).

Home, family, faith, an honest day's work, and red knees. And that still, small voice.

And thankfully too, there's always a sunset. From somebody else's porch, or maybe even my own.

On the Other Hand...

On the other hand...maybe I am already living the fairy tale! Or pretty close, anyway...

After all, I am healthy, I have a wonderful family, I have a great job, I have a roof over my head and food on the table, I have amazing friends and I split my time between the Land of Enchantment and the Land of Saints.

It's all about your perspective, the vantage point you approach things from, isn't it? Some days I feel like I am living the fairy tale, other days I question everything I do and have done. Not everything is perfect, but I really can't complain. Anything that's not quite right is of my own doing, which means I can fix it when I am ready. Maybe it's part of my fairy tale right now, or maybe I'm not quite ready for the whole fairy tale. And if I am tired of moping, I have no one to blame but myself.

Anyway, more often than not, I am in good spirits, in the company of good friends, reading from good books, engaged in uplifting work, living by faith, spending time with family, taking time to be outside in the fresh air and enjoying the simple but great things of life.

And that is pretty much a fairy tale, isn't it? It is.

Sometimes, all we need is a reminder of what we have, especially when we are focusing on what we don't have.

Today, I am living my very own fairy tale for today...and I am comfortable here.

It's Never Too Late for the Fairy Tale

Those ah-hah moments can really get you. They can quietly sneak up in your life when least expected and take your breath away. So much so that it's hard to not notice, but every now and then they can actually go by without making the impression they should.

Our lives are so busy now with jobs, church, friends, children, grandchildren, school, Facebook, Twitter, blogs, TV, movies, sports, exercise, entertainment, and every other distraction we fill our daily 24 hours with.

We keep ourselves so busy that those ah-hah moments can actually slip by without the due attention they deserve. And when that happens, we can miss out on a life-changing moment of clarity, or a simple truth, or a much needed whispered word of encouragement.

And so, as I get older, I am trying to listen better. I know there were a lot of whispered directional signs that I missed in my life, and not because they weren't there, because I wasn't paying attention.

I can look back on my life and see amazing moments of joy and clarity, but I can also look back and remember periods of time when I was lost, navigating life on my own and taking wrong turns at every bend.

And because of those wrong turns, which may very well have added excitement or adventure or knowledge to my life, I am not where I expected to be today. Not geographically, this isn't about what state I should be living in. It's more about who I am, not where I am.

And that is exactly what I was thinking when the ah-hah moment hit. Who am I? And why am I this me?

I spent this weekend wondering and doubting and wishing, and by the end of two days of pondering, I was fairly depressed. After all, when we do this kind of thinking it's very easy to remember everything we did poorly, and that's exactly what I did.

And then that much-needed thought came to me in a quiet moment of solitude, "It's not too late for the fairy tale, Jeannie."

That woke me up! It was the first optimistic thought of the past 3 days. It was much more like the me I like to think I am, and didn't fit at all with the "How in the world did I mess up my life so badly," persona of the past 40+ hours.

And so I am slowly digging out of my self-induced despair and actually beginning to see the light over the rim of the hole I dug pretty much all by myself. It's not going to happen instantly, but I am on my way up and that's what matters. Every push and pull upward, every toe hold, every bead of sweat and every harried breath will be punctuated with that ah-hah thought that came to me when I was least expecting it and most needed it. It's not too late for the fairy tale, Jeannie. Really? Woohoo, then let's get on it!

Sometimes when so many things have gone so wrong, it's hard to imagine that so many things could still go right. It takes effort and faith and a change of heart and a new direction. It takes humility and repentance and a desire to go there. But it's worth it. I know it. I've been there before and then lost my way, more than once. This time I am holding on tight and following the path so that I won't get lost on my way, and trying to not be so damned independent. I really CAN'T do this alone. Just admitting that is a huge step in the right direction.

No, it's not too late for the fairy tale.

I just need to grab offered hands along the way and focus on catching up.

It's never too late to do that.

Healthy Anger

Anger has its place.

Yes, it can be a negative force for bad actions. But it can also be the necessary catalyst for good.

Recently, our nation has been divided as we continue to fight the Civil War of Health Care. Brother against brother, father against son, mother against granddaughter, husband against wife. This issue has divided our nation at every level.

The Health Care Bill passed the House, the President has signed it. I am still stunned. Well, somewhat stunned, after all, they had their reasons.

It has been said that it was done in honor of Ted Kennedy - I can't think of a more lame reason to pass legislation.

It was dramatized through heart-wrenching experiences in lives of Americans who could not get appropriate care because they did not have health care.

It was manhandled into a victory with Air Force One criss-crossing the country to finagle votes from opponents.

It was passed with AYE votes unaccounted for in preparation for the upcoming November elections.

It was written, rewritten, edited, amended, and mostly unread from cover-to-cover by most who voted.

And finally, in yet another publicity stunt, it was signed with children who have real life and terribly sad stories of death and illness in their families standing by the President and looking on as he put pen to paper.

This legislation brought government into a decision-making role when it comes to every American's health, doctor, treatment and even, death. Yours, mine, our children's.

It will cause the loss of hundreds of thousands of jobs. It put small businesses in jeopardy - again. It removed a basic freedom of choice for every citizen of this nation. It will raise taxes across the board.

Sure, it guarantees insurance for all children, regardless of preexisting conditions, but it also means that when your child is ill, they may not even get to see a doctor. It may no longer be your choice. Uncle Sam will decide. But, I guess he's "family", so it will be OK, right? Absolutely no, it's not OK.

There is no question about it, the Dem's pulled a fast one. They passed this bill without transparency and without a roll call vote. Dark shadowed, whispered conversations and closed door negotiations come to mind. So do higher taxes, government red tape on doctor's orders, and a greater debt for my grandchildren to bear.

And more unique heart wrenching experiences from people who could not get appropriate treatment - but this time WITH government-mandated health care.

But having said all of this, the real issue is still the historic, and in some circles - catastraphic -  legislation that was just passed at the great cost of freedoms lost.


"America has just witnessed an unconscionable abuse of power," is how Mitt Romney expressed what has just happened.

"A spoonful of taxes makes the medicine go down," was another anonymous comment.

And Vladimir Lenin once said, "Medicine is the keystone in the arch of socialism." It appears that Obama agrees, and that's just downright scary, but even scarier to me is the obvious fact that a lot of American's must agree with Lenin too. 

But I don't. I am on the "What In The World Were They Thinking?" side of this national issue. I am still stunned by the arrogant posturing of Pelosi and her cronies. I was astounded by her inability to make a convincing speech on the House floor and yet garner the votes to pass a bill she couldn't even adequately defend or describe. I continue to shake my head at the socialist positions of our President.

And I am worried about reaching old age and not being able to see a real doctor when my health has deteriorated due to aging and I am no longer considered a member of the "A" list for quality, timely, specialty health care and early preventive measures. (After all, when I am older, I will be expected to be dead in a few short years by the government agency managing national health care benefits and medical treatment decisions).

So, yes, I am angry. And for the second time in my lifetime, I am scared as a result of the leadership policies in DC. The first time was shortly after Obama was elected when I watched him share a beer in a publicized stunt to show reconciliation, and then heard him speak about his first 100 days in office.

No negative emotion, including worry, anger, and fear, is a truly healthy emotion. Each can bring out the worst in humans. But they can also bring us to our knees, and lift our voices, and cause us to take a stand for something.

I've been on my knees a lot recently. I have joined the conversation and I have taken a stand for liberty. And I still have hope.

I hope this country will live up to its destiny and that Americans will find the courage to fight for their freedoms. But my greatest hope is that I will stay healthy long enough to beat the new health care system's estimated date of my viability, that day when I will be moved to the "NOT URGENT" list.

I am angry, and I will do my part, but it won't be behind closed doors, in a muffled whisper, or in the shadowed corners of secret combinations. I may be only one voice, but I can shout if I need to.

So here's to a long and healthy life...and sunshine.

Cheers, damn it.

Regrets

Some people live without regrets. I am envious of them.

I have a lot of regrets, in spite of a post written last year in this blog that talked about No Regrets.

I regret anything I have done that has caused pain or confusion for others.

There are choices I have made that I thought - at the time - were justified or good or right, but in retrospect it's so obvious that I was confused or had allowed myself to be deceived, or just plain selfish.

Life is too short to make some of the big mistakes that I have, but here I am - living proof that life really ISN'T too short to make those kind of mistakes.

Life may be too short, but the big mistakes do shorten your life. They rob you of moments you might have had. They steal opportunities that might have been. They replace real with imagined.

Life should be lived with no regrets, but that doesn't mean you don't regret things you have done, it means you live so that you have no reason for regret.

If I could turn back time, I would make better choices. I would reclaim the lost moments and opportunities.

But I can't. So now I will simply look forward and try to push the regrets aside so that they cannot claim even one more moment of my life and shorten it any more.  I have spent too much time punishing myself for bad choices in the past. I am stealing my own life from me.

The clock is ticking and I plan to savor every moment. Maybe if I fill every moment with as much living as possible, I can recoup some of the time I have lost.

Maybe.

Only one thing's for sure. I am going to do my very best to live the remainder of my life in a way that does not give cause for any new regret.

Because I have enough already.

In or Out?

A door swings both ways. In and Out. Egress and Ingress.

The question is about which way you want to go and sometimes that can be confusing depending on the angle you approach the door from.

I always look at the door (just as I look at the glass) as half open (or half full). It's the portal to a new opportunity. Yes, it's also the path leading from the past, but as I walk through the door I am not looking behind me, I am looking forward to the future.

Maybe that's why my life has been filled with excitement, anticipation and new experiences. The upside has been constant activity and no boredom, and the downside of all of that hype has been the absence of regular calm and relaxation. And that's why I believe all doors should swing both ways. 

The future is always linked with the past. And the past always leads to the future. Excitement melts into relaxation and calm creates the energy for celebration.

Sometimes life can be a dizzying experience and feel like a revolving door that just goes 'round and 'round and 'round. But I prefer doors that simply swing back and forth, because life shouldn't be dizzying, it should be a balanced blend of calm and excitement.

We need a little bit of both.

Cutting your Losses

We all lose sometime, somewhere. It's inevitable in life.

Sometimes those losses are almost too much to bear, sometimes they are only a pinprick on the map of life. But any loss is measurable at some level and causes a reaction of some kind.

I am all about cutting my losses. I have a lot of experience with this. I have loved and lost, gained and lost, earned and lost, purchased and lost, birthed and lost, married and lost, divorced and lost, found and lost (a completely opposite occurrence from what it should be), learned and lost, played and lost, gambled and lost...well, you get the picture.

If I wasn't such an optimist, I might consider myself a loser!

At this stage in my life I have very few goals left to complete, but they are real and they are important to me, and they have been lost in the craziness of the past 35 years of my life (otherwise known as the parenting years).

So it's time to reclaim these goals as my own, find the best avenue to reach them, and get going. And what I want is not all that complicated, it's really very simple.

1) Laughter every day of my life
2) Family every day of my life
3) Work that I enjoy every day of my life - well, every work day of my life
4) Faith every day of my life
5) Financial security for the rest of the days of my life.

I think I have found the avenue, let's hope it comes through.

Light candles please. And pray, ponder, pontificate, hope, bribe - whatever it takes.

It's time for me to cut my losses by focusing on them, because I am on the winning team!

Go Red!

Life and Death

My friend's father passed away yesterday. He was 94. Almost a century of life behind him. It feels odd to consider the recently deceased "lucky", but living a life of almost a century with your companion by your side is definitely a blessing with more than a little bit of luck tossed in.

Somehow the fact that someone lived a full life for almost a century just feels good, it sits well when you think about it. So much so that it makes you react with a mixture of joy and sorrow when you hear of their death. It's very different than when someone dies young. But death is still a loss, no matter the age or quality of a life lived, and we need not forget that.

And as final as death is, as sad as it might be, it can be a relief too.

Taking care of a 94-year-old isn't a walk in the park, no matter how much help you have. Heck, taking care of a 75-year-old can be tough (almost as bad as a teenager). But that could take up an entire blog entry and teenagers(one, specifically) are not the topic of today's post.

I've watched three men take care of an elderly parent over the span of my life. I have watched them do laundry, take care of the shopping, clean house, run errands, drive to doctor appointments, change diapers, bathe and feed their Mom or Dad.

I watched my Dad take care of my Grandma and Grandpa for many years, some of that time working along side my Aunt Jean.

I watched my husband take care of his mother as her health declined following a fall resulting in a broken hip, multiplied by the rapid acceleration of  dementia into full-blown Alzheimer's. She lived with us as long as we could manage it, and we have some amazing memories of fun and laughter with Grandma, but I also remember the tougher times and Hal's amazing patience and dedication to making certain his mother was clean and comfortable and taken care of.

And I have been aware of my friend Ed over the past year as he would spend time with his parents, or not join in a group dinner because it was his weekend for laundry duty. He and his sister helped take care of their parents after they moved into an assisted living home. It's Ed's father who passed away yesterday. Ed had been with him most of the weekend.

And each of these experiences, where I have been an observer much more than a participant, has given me a greater respect for the respective caregiver. I have literally watched in awe. It's not easy, and it's not something anyone can do, but what better way to show respect, love and honor for your parent and the sacrifice(s) they made for you over the span of your lifetime than to take care of them as they took care of you so many years ago. The ultimate "giving back" opportunity.

And what a strong indication of character. These three men showed something in their personalities that many don't even have. There are certainly other ways to develop character, this is simply one that I have witnessed personally and feel motivated to comment on by the recent loss of Ed's Dad.

Life can be short, or it can last for 94 years, and the only thing we can be certain of is that it will come to an end. Knowing that, we should always make every moment count for good by helping others, being true to ourselves, living with love, honoring our family, giving back and setting an example by our actions.

Death will steal our breath, but it won't erase our reputation or alter the degree of character we built or lost during our lifetime.

Character is a once in a lifetime opportunity and we sure don't want to miss our turn, because death is ahead of all of us.

Live, Love, Laugh. And then as we all will someday, leave this life with honor and a sense of a life well-lived.

Life and Death. In the end, just as in the beginning, that's really what it's all about.

What if...

What if...I had moved to DC.

What if...I hadn't moved to New Mexico.

What if...I hadn't married Kory and had 6 kids.

What if...I had finished my degree.

What if...I hadn't been actively LDS for most of my adult life?

What if...I was more active?

What if...I wasn't so sedentary in my lifestyle?

What if...I didn't have such great friends?

What if...I had a huge retirement savings?

What if...I could travel the world?

What if...I hadn't learned to love fundraising?

What if...I hadn't finally realized that internet chat and games are addicting, if not unhealthy and evil?

What if...I hadn't had to work and could have just been a Mom?

What if...I had cooked more.

What if...I had never learned to use a computer?

What if...Facebook didn't exist?

What if...I hadn't spent an Easter vacation in Arizona and learned to love horses?

What if...Ronda Copeland was still alive?

What if...Charlie and I had never dated, or never stopped dating?

What if...Mr. Grande had given me an A, instead of a B+?

What if...I had kept dreaming in Spanish?

What if...Maria and Felipe hadn't come into my life?

What if...Kalen hadn't gone to Brazil with Rotary?

What if...I still had the condo?

What if...I hadn't spent all that money on fake nails?

What if...I hadn't spent all that money, period?

What if...I had saved all that money?

What if...I had been home every day when my children came home from school?

What if...I had waited until my kids were raised to remarry after my divorce from their Dad?

What if...I had paid more attention and left sooner, more than once?

What if...I could have made common sense, heartfelt, intuitive and inspired choices, instead of finance-necessitated decisions?

What if...we hadn't moved so much?

What if...my kids had started and graduated in the same school district?

What if...I hadn't been so overwhelmed as a single Mom of six?

What if...we hadn't moved to Provo?

What if...we hadn't moved to Salt Lake?

What if...I hadn't been born with red hair?

What if...my eyes had been green?

What if...we had never gone to Laguna Riviera?

What if...I hadn't love high school?

What if...I had been a teen mother?

What if...I hadn't been a single 40-year old with 6 kids in Utah?

What if...I hadn't met the great singles in SLC?

What if...we hadn't met the Belcher's?

What if...my children were troublesome?

What if...my kids were from a normal, healthy, non-divorced, happy family?

What if...money had never been an issue?

What if...I hadn't lived in survival mode for nearly two decades?

What if...I had kept the house on Teton?

What if...I had gone to work for Brulte?

What if...life had ended already?

What if...I lived closer to my kids and grandkids?

What if...we hadn't moved to Washington state?

What if...we had never been to the Ellensburg rodeo?

What if...Suncadia hadn't been there?

What if...I hadn't married Hal?

What if...we hadn't been given Devin for those years?

What if...things were different with Hal's girls?

What if...vindictive, addictive women weren't in our lives?

What if...I loved to ski?

What if...I didn't love chocolate?

What if...I was rockin a size 8 again?

What if...I let my hair go naturally peach, then white?

What if...I wore a braid down my back?

What if...I got a job where denim wasn't OK?

What if...I actually slept through an entire night?

What if...I didn't have something to smile about every day?

What if...I couldn't feel the sun 300 days of the year?

What if...I didn't have someone to laugh with?

What if...Mom and Dad were still here?

What if...Jamie hadn't died from AIDS/HIV.

What if...Katrina hadn't been stillborn?

What if...I wasn't healthy?

What if...I didn't have those wonderful memories of Sunday dinner at my grandparents?

What if...I didn't remember talking to Mimi and Boppie every Sunday night?

What if...my grandkids don't have those memories?

What if...I learned to ski?

What if...I played tennis again?

What if...I was 35, what would I change of the past 20 years?

What if...I was 50, what would I change of the past 5 years?

What if...I could plan the next 20 years? the next 5?

What if...I got a job offer?

What if...I have to choose.

What if...I make the wrong choice.

What if...I already did.

What if...that is the question, isn't it?

What if?

I wouldn't be me. And you wouldn't be you.

That's, what if.

But it sure could have been a lot easier.

One Two Many

Sometimes the line is VERY thin between what's OK and what's not OK.

In conversations, one too many opinions can halt the discussion instantly.

In relationships, one too many criticisms can divide two people beyond repair.

In life, one too many challenges can seem overwhelming and lead to behaviors caused by one too many stresses.

In the kitchen, we all know the old adage that too many cooks ruin the soup.

In business, too many chiefs create gridlock in decision making and forward progress.

In love, one too many half-truths can destroy trust.

In social events, one too many drinks can change acceptable behavior into unacceptable behavior.

Sometimes 50 is not too many, sometimes 3 is, it depends on the situation, but moderation in all things is a good rule no matter what the situation.

One may be the loneliest number, but sometimes two is "one two many".

It's up to each of us to recognize where OUR line is;some of us can creep close to the line and linger there without danger of crossing over, but others of us need to keep a large buffer between the line and where we are, recognizing our weaknesses and not welcoming temptation beyond our ability to manage it.

And isn't this exactly what life is all about? Managing ourselves. Avoiding temptation. Controlling our desires. Biting our tongues. Curbing our appetites. Finding our center.  Bringing the reality of opposition in all things to a perfect understanding of peace and joy in our souls. Forming our identity. Claiming our place. Determining our destiny.

Learning to drive through life, belting in for the ride, reading the manual, following good examples, maneuvering the curves, heeding the warning signs, practicing defensive living, watching for others who aren't as cognizant of these things, noticing and stopping for people whose lives cross our life's path, and never, ever crossing the double yellow line. Not even hugging it...

...because sometimes in life we need a buffer and sometimes even one time is one two many.

Three Dog Night "One"

Revelation

It comes without warning. The thought can slide through your mind so quickly that if you aren't paying attention you might miss it. It leaves no mark or reminder that it was there and you find yourself wondering if it was real.

Sometimes life takes strange turns that force strategic maneuvering and a reassessment of your intended direction, a need to listen carefully for clues, for hints, for that gut feeling you have always been able to trust,  for revelation.

Sometimes you make a choice based on a fear that you will never have the opportunity to revisit that moment of reality again and you want to hold onto it; sometimes you make a choice based on a fear that you will have the opportunity to repeat or revisit or rekindle something, and you are afraid to take that chance again. It's a choice of heading in the right direction that might turn your life around, or heading in an exactly opposite direction and just repeating things you would rather forget.

Revelation comes in handy at these forks in the road - choosing to go one way because you want to experience a place or person or emotion again, or choosing to go the other way because you DON'T want to repeat that experience again, or anything similar to it.

But revelation takes preparation. You have to spend time mulling things over, sorting through your thoughts, defining your choices. Then, you have to listen. And finally, you have to pay attention, because just listening isn't enough. Jumping to conclusions, making knee-jerk decisions and hasty judgments does not allow time for this critical time of contemplation, clarification and then direction.

And what comes next? The character-defining moment. Which fork do you take? Which direction do you follow, your own instant gratification based choice, a new and untested path in another direction, or the direction pointed out in that fleeting moment?

Character can be built over a lifetime and lost in a moment. We need to listen carefully and choose well.

As for me, I am still studying the road map. In silence. So I can listen.

Smokey Robinson and the Miracles "A Fork in the Road"

Dead Lines

I am taking a break. I have had a non-stop 3 weeks and I need some downtime. Life seems to be on a continuous fast forward and then on occasion it REALLY shifts into even higher gear and I feel as if lightening speed still doesn't cut it.

Deadlines, and more deadlines.

It's like we spend our entire life working toward deadlines, only to end our days with a "dead line" on the heart monitor.

There's something wrong with this way of living and I plan to make some serious changes very soon - hopefully not dead lining along the way. I am just over it.

Daughtrey "Over You"

Flashback

I never did drugs. It's a good thing too because I have enough flashbacks without having taken drugs in my youth.

Some of the flashbacks are whimsical (that was sooo much fun, let's do it again!), some are maudlin (gosh, i hate this feeling, why do i have to relive it?), some are downright scary (did I really do that?), some are tender (aw shucks!), some flashbacks leave a sting of bad memories (can I just crawl back into bed now, please?) and some serve as reminders of things that you never want to forget (oh yeah, that's why I/he/she did that).

I don't avoid flashbacks when they suddenly occur, I usually savor every second of their existence in my mind. They serve as stern warnings, gentle reminders, whispers of hope, a chance to relive something you wish hadn't ended and also as reality checks.

I have been sorting through pictures recently and all sorts of flashbacks have been flying through my mind. They come and go one right after the other, just like the real life events did. My kids grew up so fast.

But today I tasted a recent memory and it's sticking with me. It made me smile and I will savor it for a long while. And ponder it's meaning.

Sarah McLachlan "I Will Remember You"