The Morning After

I will admit that this is not the entry that I had originally planned to post. The one last week leaned more on the serious side, so I wanted something lighthearted and frivolous. I did not realize as I was preparing a new one that yesterday was the 15^th Anniversary of 9/11. And in reality, my first attempt was in fact just that, frivolous and trivial. It just did not feel like the right way to go. 

Now I do not claim to have a better way to retell anything about the tragedy that unfolded. I have no new information. Nor do I ever have any intention of using this blog, or any of my writings, to post anything political in nature. That being said, I do have some thoughts that I want to share with you.

I want to talk about The Morning After.

The moment a tragedy or adversity strikes in our world there is a rush of adrenaline. And even shock. In those initial minutes or even hours our minds are blank and our emotional equilibrium is off. We need time to process the events. And those events do not have to be as momentous as the Twin Towers. We have all faced a ‘tower’ in our life that came crashing down around us. Not skyscrapers made of steel; but ones that take the form of divorce, bankruptcy, illness, the loss of a loved one. That leave us reeling with disbelief and fear. We question why and how and it can seem as if the very core of our being is shaken. And for a while, a night, a short season, we despair. But my friends, that is not where we stay.

I am of the belief that it is in the morning after where our story begins again. Because that is the time when our focus shifts outward and decisions start to be formed that will chart the direction of our responses. Our resolve becomes firm. We choose to be strong and not succumb to fear. We choose to tackle the pressing details so as not to lose our power to others.  We explore options and plans so we do not remain a victim. That is the key for how the strength shifts. Whether it is an outside force, or an internal struggle, as long as we operate from a victim’s position, the ‘other’ side has won. Please do not allow that to take hold and make you feel powerless and defeated. Because you do not have to be either of those things. We possess more strength and courage then we realize. Sometimes it doesn’t show up until we are tested, but it always shows up.  And while we cannot control how and when bad things happen to us, we do; oh yes we do, have control over our reactions to them.

Ok, I can feel myself getting caught up in the moment. I am certainly not a ‘name it / claim it’ kind of girl. I understand there are certain life realities and at times we are required to deal with painful circumstances. I just want to impress upon you my belief that attitude and gratitude can go a very long way. A positive outlook is vital to facing down our struggles. Having a grateful heart for our tremendous blessings helps to keep us balanced and moving forward.

I do not know what towers may be attacked in your life, or who may be trying to hijack your joy. Just remember this; it is only for a season. Know there are people around you who will care, support and uplift you. Believe in yourself and in your worth. Pray. Trust. Resolve. The pain may be crushing today, but it is not a burden you have to bear forever. Tomorrow is a new day and the sunrise of the morning after will help to chase away the shadows.

And in a closing thought, I want to share one other thing with you. It is something that I myself had not realized until today. The number 19. That is the number of hijackers used to carry out the horror of that day we vow to never forget. I did some research and that figure does appear to be correct, even though it surprised me at first. All that damage, pain, death and destruction was carried out by 19 individuals who were committed, even unto death, for evil things. What if today we could do the opposite of that? What if just a handful of us could harness that type of dedication to spread love, joy, hope and encouragement? To be sure hate does not carry more power than love. Right?? We should see what good we could accomplish if we all really made that a priority.

Hope Out

Your Perspective Matters - (The Scope Of Things)

Imagine, if you will, two rooms at the end of a hallway. 

(Let me guess, there is a horror movie that starts this way.) 

There is only one object in each room. One holds a microscope and the other a telescope. Can you guess which room I would like for you to go into? 

Actually I want you to step into each of them. Different reasons/hopefully different outcomes.

Let’s start with the Microscope Room.

The purpose of the microscope is to detect and investigate objects invisible to the human eye. It is used with great success for detecting maladies or inconsistencies that if caught in time can be fixed, cured, or eradicated.

Tiny slivers are encased in slides and viewed and logged with great care.

 

When I first started jotting down ideas for this entry, my initial thought was to suggest avoiding this room altogether. That would have been ill-advised. It is true, however; that so many of us spend way too much time in this room already. But for all the wrong reasons.

 

We go in there to dissect our bodies, our weight, our appearance, our worth. Very little good, if any, can come from that. Men and women alike also use this microscope to pick out the minute differences in one other; status, finances, family, etc. 

We get caught up in categorizing insignificant details on these life ‘slides’ and store them away to be pulled out and viewed again. That is the most damaging use for the Microscope Room. Collectively we need to agree to end all these behaviors and destroy those ‘slides’ that label and divide us.

I do not want us to padlock that room just yet though. There are a few things worthy of a closer look. 

For one, I believe it is a good idea to run certain attitudes through Life’s Microscope. 

Victim, reactionary, doomsday, cynicism, arrogance, self-destruction. If any of these storylines play out in your daily life, slap them under that microscope. Try and pinpoint the originating cell and figure out a way to destroy it.

I understand I only have the right to speak for myself, but I am willing to bet most of you reading this are greatly blessed. Can you imagine the effect on our community and even our world, if each of us were just 10% more grateful? 

Attitude is one of the first things noticed in the initial 15 minutes of meeting and having a conversation with someone. Let yours be delightful!

I can think of at least one other thing we should consistently put under the microscope. Decisions. 

I am confident most of us have made it to the point in life where we understand the ramifications of certain choices. However, at times we are still motivated. By fear. Or greed. Or maybe simply the inability to say ‘No’. 

I also do not feel our age ever precludes us from certain peer pressures. So let’s try to mentally examine our decisions. (Now, don’t hold up the Chick Fil A Drive Thru contemplating your lunch. That will only cause someone else to resurrect an attitude from the preceding paragraph.) But just make sure the life option you go with fits in line with your ideals and goals. Your comfort level and values. You do not owe an explanation to the world; just yourself.

So, now let’s move next door to the Telescope Room.

A telescope is used to see remote objects. (Not your neighbor.)

Its purpose is to help the viewer see past what is directly in front of them and explore the possibilities beyond. We all need to try a little more of that. 

Sometimes we tend to get stuck in the small box/world we have created for ourselves. We construct barriers and limits. I am very humbled and grateful for the positive comments regarding my blog and writings. However, I struggle with the ‘what ifs’. 

What if I had started earlier, tried harder, etc. But that is me standing in the wrong room. By moving just one door down to the Telescope Room and I can look outward and dream. We all can. Just walking up to the telescope takes a certain amount of bravery. It involves trusting ourselves enough to believe we are all meant for better things with still room to grow.

Another truth about the Telescope Room is that the objects, in reality, truly are currently beyond our reach. They are not a given or guaranteed.

It takes effort and determination to reach them. But just knowing they are out there can be just the right amount of push to motivate and inspire us to stretch ourselves. Get beyond ourselves and our current circumstances. I do not know what you might see in your Telescope Room, but know this. If you can see it, you can get there. (I’m channeling Field of Dreams.)    

And so as not to appear too self-centered and narcissistic, we should also use the Telescope Room to help us see beyond our comfortable lives to realize there are others out there who need our help. 

Not necessarily always with money, even though that might factor in. Consider Time. Kindness. Even a strong back occasionally. Sometimes when you look outward, you can identify ways to make a positive impact on someone outside of your inner circle. I have some amazing friends that regularly work with Habitat for Humanity and raise money for several other charities. They understand the Telescope Room!

There you have it! Two very different views of your life. There is a time for introspection and then a time for launching. I encourage you to stroll through both rooms today. The key though is to not stay in either one very long. There’s a big, bright, beautiful world out there. Go be spectacular in it!

And always... 

Hope With Abandon

Hope Out

www.hopeboulevard.com

With Friends Like These......

So I mentioned at the end of my last post (I know, it was so long ago you probably forgot), that I was thinking of changing the name of my blog. Well, as you can see, I went with Hope Boulevard. I am “hoping” that it will embody the direction that I am trying to go.

And I could not think of a better first entry for this new direction.

This past weekend I spent three days/nights on the coast with some of the best people around. We are all members of a Meet Up Group – 40-50 Year Old Singles. We rented a house on Folly Beach. All 16 of us!

It is not the first time the group has taken a trip like this, but it is the first time I have been able to go. I will admit I was a little nervous.  Some of the people I have known from the first minute I joined the group. Others, including my roomie, I had never met before. I am a bit on the introverted side; not always comfortable in groups. I wasn’t exactly sure how I would fit in the mix. But I was excited too and ready to make some memories.

I can’t (and probably shouldn’t) fit all three days’ worth of activities into one blog entry. To be honest, it wasn’t even about the activities. It was about investing time in one another. It is cool once you realize that not being exactly the same as another is not a pre-requisite for friendship. That house held a diverse sampling of humankind. We all grew up in different areas of the country, with various education, economic and religious backgrounds. Our viewpoints are not all alike. What we did all have in common, and in abundance, were open hearts and open minds.

Most of our meals were communal. People working together to create and then share some amazing food. Unless you have experienced that, it’s hard to understand how special that is. Sitting around a table. Sharing stories. Rubbing elbows and souls.

Sunrise was another group gathering. The porch overlooking the ocean had about 7 or 8 rocking chairs. Every morning by 6:30 those chairs were full, and then some, by those of us drinking coffee and welcoming in the day together. In the dim hushed moments watching the skyline brighten with a background ocean chorus; I’m just saying, that is hard to beat.

And while I do not want to name names, I do want to express my gratitude for a few people that impacted and impressed upon my heart.

 To The Co-Directors. This weekend would not have run smoothly without you. The planning. The execution. All your efforts to make sure everyone was safe, happy and fed. What a wonderful team you made.

To Our Walking Encyclopedia. Who may sometimes have needed help from a phone but was always a wealth of information. (Also providing a weekend-long anatomy lesson.)

To Our Official Photographer. Such great shots to memoralize our time together. And even a step beyond to patiently wait for the perfect shot to provide a never-to-be forgotten gift presented in part by strangers to celebrate a milestone birthday.

To the Recipient of that Gift. What a humble and giving spirit you possess. Thank you for sharing your special day with all of us. (And for the music and crab wrestling lessons.)

To Our Resident Love Birds. Your sweetness to each other reminds us of what is good and pure about the relationships some of us still seek.

To Our Free Sprit. You reminded us that life is short. Enjoy. Pursue the moment. Be fearless.

To Our Brave Heart. Despite challenges and difficulties, you are always up to seize the moment. You are cheerful and such an inspiration.

To Our Sparkle. Your laughter lights up a room and/or dark porch. Up for anything with a thirst for knowledge and adventure.

And last but not least… To Our Fearless Leader. Who made all the arrangements, handled most of the annoying details and still chose the lowliest accommodations. You are the heart and soul of this group.

I will admit at times my comfort zone was challenged. I had to walk back opinions and judgments that were unfair mainly because I do not hold a monopoly on being right. I try to put great effort into being empathic and a viewer of the other side of the coin. I hope to always maintain that type of perspective. It is ok to have our ideas and beliefs tested. It is really the only way to know for sure we are committed to them.

As the weekend was winding down Saturday afternoon and I was walking back from the beach I passed an older couple heading out. By older, I am guessing mid-late 70s. The man was carrying a surfboard. There was a storm way out in the ocean and it was causing the incoming waves to be pretty magnificent. I have lived near the east coast most of my life and have never seen them quite so impressive. Surfers came out in car loads to try and catch the perfect party wave together. This particular seasoned surfer  was also carrying a fairly large surfboard. I was surprised and admittedly a little worried about him struggling in that ocean. So as I sat on the porch I watched for him (or specifically his yellow board) amidst the mass of bobbing heads. I saw him wipe out a couple of times and doggedly go out again. His wife was standing on the shoreline, also watching, in an adorable green bikini that I would be envious to wear at 51; much less 71. It wasn’t too long before he gave up his quest. I watched them leave the beach and cross the street right in front of the house. I couldn’t help myself so I went to speak with them a minute. He was winded and disappointed, but spoke of surfing all around the world and winning a few contests along the way. He couldn’t resist another shot at the crest. I told that rather lengthy tidbit to say this.... He has the kind of heart and spirit that was also residing in that beach house this weekend; and one I wish to claim as well. So here’s to another 25+ years of going for it. Being brave. Taking a chance. Loading up a car and driving east (or north, south, west) to spend a few days with friends and even strangers. To savoring every moment.

These people; these friends and housemates of mine exemplify why I started this blog. We are all single, middle-aged, wonderful loving caring people. Sure, we look at life from different angles, filters or lenses, but we all see a beautiful world. And I have the most beautiful friends.

Hope Out!

Grand Theft Auto (Who Needs a Rehearsal Dinner)

All is Fair in Love and War and Divorce.

I have shared with you the story of meeting (and parting ways with) my first husband. It is only fitting, I suppose, to do the same with Husband #2, Russ. (The problem now is I will have to remarry and divorce again in order to make this a running series.)

I would also like to make a disclaimer. Russ passed away over a decade ago. We had already divorced, but it was still a sad time and a tragic set of events. I would never want or set out to speak ill of someone who has already passed on. This is the story of one event that took place on the eve of our wedding.

I have also checked the Statute of Limitations in the State of Virginia, so we should be all set.

Russ was one of the kindest and most generous men I have ever met. He was always helping someone, in more ways than I can recount. He was also always being taken advantage of.

I met Russ when I was 22; which made him 20. We were both living in Virginia and working at The Daily Press. I was a very young divorced single mom with a baby. I worked in the advertising department and walked over every afternoon to get ‘hot off the press’ papers. He had a truck route delivering the afternoon paper, so our paths crossed every day. In the interest of time, let’s just suffice it to say that before long we were a cute little happy couple.

One snag in our budding relationship was a Girl Named Wanda. (Seriously, that was her real name. It just also works well thematically.) She was his ex-girlfriend. And co-owner of a brown van they had purchased together. You know… the old story. She needed a car, couldn’t afford a car, so he co-signed for one. Since he had a vehicle, he let her take the van when they split. Unfortunately she did not make regular payments and then decided to move home to Oklahoma. (This was an extremely strange coincidence, since my ex also was from Oklahoma.)

Russ would never hurt a fly. But I never knew anyone to really challenge him either. He wanted the van back since he was now making the payments. So we planned a trip to Oklahoma. Now, by we, I mean, Russ, myself and his best friend Curtis. In reality, I was probably an afterthought. I’m pretty sure I insisted on going. (Ex-girlfriend vs new girlfriend kinda of thing.) The idea was to show up at her house (her mother’s house) under cloak of darkness and drive away with it. Simple….right?

We drove straight through. It is quite a haul from Virginia to Oklahoma. I will spare you the bodily function stories, but we made excellent time with very few stops. And we did indeed time it to arrive under cloak of darkness. We pulled up across the street. The van was sitting as pretty as you please on the side of the house. (Now mind you, this is NOT the night before our wedding, so it should come as no surprise that our mission was unsuccessful.) I was asked (sure… I’ll say asked) to lie down in the back seat so as not to be seen. What I thought would be a quick and easy get away quickly deteriorated.

For some reason, known only to Russ, at the last second he decided to knock on the front door. Curtis gave me the play-by-play from the front seat that included Wanda coming to the door, a brief conversation and Russ returning empty handed for a very long defeated drive back home.

Fast forward 1 ½ years. We were getting married! I was happy. It was a simple affair, but still sweet. Small gathering of friends and family in the back yard of Russ’s home. Tiffany was going to be the flower girl. (She was 3 years old.) We were pretty much following traditional expectations. (Except using Queen’s version of the Bridal March.) The only hitch (pun intended) came while we were sitting around the afternoon before the rehearsal and talking. Russ’s Uncle John was there. His two best friends (Curtis and Alan) were there. Someone, somehow, for some reason happened to mention that Wanda had moved back to Virginia….with the van.

(It never occurred to me at the time to question why, on the eve of MY wedding, the discussion turned to an ex-girlfriend. Who had kept up with her, her whereabouts, and why?) Never the less, again the location of the van was known and another commandeering mission was put in place. It was decided that after the rehearsal, the guys would drive out to where she was living and once again attempt to retrieve the van under cloak of darkness. Originally I was told I could not go. But I don’t really take kindly to such proclamations. It was finally agreed that I could go, but I had to ride in the last car and not actually go into the subdivision. If something bad went down, I would be able to get away. (Can you feel the tension rising??)

So we had the rehearsal. It went fine. Everyone was goofy and laughing; having fun like those occasions call for. When things finally wound down; however, we started to make serious covert van apprehending plans. Some of the details are a bit fuzzy. It had been almost 30 years after all. However, I believe it was three vehicles. Uncle John and Russ in the lead. I am not sure who drew the short straw and got stuck in the rear car with me. It was about a thirty minute drive to where Wanda was currently living. This trip went much quicker. They went on into the subdivision; while we parked on the side of the road and waited. It seemed like a long time, but in reality I do not think it was. One minute everything was quiet and dark, and the next there were lights and horns and cars and a victorious Uncle John driving a brown van past us at a pretty high rate of speed. We made the much happier return trip to the house and stood out in the yard giddy with adrenaline and accomplishment and vindication. I dare to say the high of that moment probably outdid the afterglow of the typical rehearsal dinner.... Think along the lines of The Fast and The Furious.... I’m sure that is who we all thought we were. My guess is that Uncle John was on watch for the night and the rest of us went to bed.

Now here’s the problem with vindication. There is no end to it. What I do to you; you do to me. Especially when mixed with youth and immaturity. It’s a useless cycle. While my wedding day dawned beautiful and things went exactly as planned, I spent the entire day looking over my shoulder expecting flashing blue cars to pull up and haul my new groom away. Because even though technically his name was on the paperwork somewhere, it was a pretty bold and reckless thing to do..….in hindsight. Fortunately for us (and the guests that took the time to be there) we were spared any pre-You Tube theatrics that day.

The authorities did eventually get involved and lawyers hired to sort it all out. It was quite easy to unravel once all the facts were known. Russ retained custody of the van. To be honest, I could not tell you what happened with it or Wanda. I guess we kept it for awhile and don’t think we ever heard from her again.

Looking back, it could have gone wrong in so many ways. But it didn’t. Instead I have a pretty exciting; uber-cool, (don’t try this yourself) not-too-many-people-can-tell Wedding Eve Story.

It is nice to have one or two of those types of adventures in your life. (Even though I don’t specifically recommend hijacking a car to have one.) Being married to Russ actually brought about a series of adventures. He didn’t believe in dull moments. I cannot say I loved all of those moments. I can say that I loved Russ. The marriage didn’t last unfortunately; but it did produce my second beautiful daughter; Victoria. She is currently expecting a little boy herself and we recently discussed how she believes her little boy will look like her father.

That made both of us smile.

Hope Out

PS…After much thought and consideration, I believe I will be changing the name of my blog. At the time of its inception, The Struggle Is Real seemed to fit the moment. And while sometimes the struggle still DOES seem real, I have decided my focus should be ‘brighter’…. So stay tuned……