Let This Thanksgiving Be A Time Of Healing - Back To The Fold



I was 75% into a non-traditional, yet festive Thanksgiving Day blog when the words just stopped. It was light and frivolous and very likely to show up one day soon. But it didn’t fit my mood. Originally I wasn’t going to do one at all. People are busy today. Plus there is really nothing new under the sun about the holiday. We know the origins. We are all extremely grateful for our blessings. We live an abundant and wonderful life all things considered. But something kept nagging in the back of my brain. So I decided to just relax a minute and see what else came through my turkey and pumpkin pie haze. So for the next few minutes, without too much filter or editing, I’m going to just speak (aka type) from my heart.

Thanksgiving (and the holiday season in general) is about family. Friends. Gathering and Celebration. We all put on our best and fresh faces and garments. Pull the finest china and goblets from the back of the hutch. Light the candles. We look around at the happy faces and stuffed bellies and feel accomplished and satisfied. All of those things are wonderful. Meaningful. Excellent. But I dare say in many gatherings today, there will be someone missing from the fold. Someone, who at one time was welcomed at the table to share a slice of ham or cranberry sauce. So where are they today? Do we know? Do we want to know? Am I depressing you and ruining the holiday?

There are empty place settings around certain tables because of the ultimate loss. For those I am truly saddened and my sympathies are abundant. It has been several holidays now for me without my mom or my dad. There are those missing because of work or distance or other obligations. But those are not the ones I’m referring to. I am asking each of us to consider the proverbial lost sheep.

Individuals get disconnected from families for a variety of reasons. It can be a bad decision. They took a path that was not in line with the family values. They got lost in a place that seemed shiny on the outside but painful and dark on the inside. Maybe they want to escape but don’t know how. Maybe they chose partners or associates that made the family uncomfortable. Unfortunately biases and misconceptions exact a high price. The resulting toll quite damaging.  

It could be because of hurt feelings. Something said last week or 20 years ago. Often words no one even remembers. How common is that? Feuds and angry feelings fester and are passed down and the original slight cannot even be recalled. Or maybe it can be recalled. Maybe it is heard in the back of your mind every day.

I do not have any real answers. I understand some transgressions are severe and cannot just be ‘forgotten’. Wise people choose to leave a bad situation because it is the healthiest thing for them. Those decisions I applaud and encourage. It takes a brave soul to rebuild and heal yourself. At times doing it all alone.  

However occasionally it is just plain stubbornness that keeps us apart. The unwillingness to forgive or ask for forgivness. Squaring off at a virtual line with each party just waiting for the other one to flinch. Is it really that monumental and earth shattering? Is it worth years of separation and fracture?

Here is my suggestion. If at any point in reading this someone crossed your mind then stop a minute to consider them. Is there a path to reconnect? Today could be the perfect opportunity to reach out with a phone call or text. Say Hello. Say I Love You. Say I’m Sorry. Say I Forgive You. Say something…. Who knows, maybe they were there holding their phone wanting to do the same thing.

And if you are the one alone today or feel estranged, please know this. There are times when standing alone is the hardest yet greatest gift you can give yourself. Find friends and like-minded individuals who can and will support you. But if you have left the family fold and regret it and want back in…. Take action. It is never too late. Again, be brave. Stir up the courage to be humble enough to admit a mistake. Let today be a fresh start.  

Please, please do not let these few words put a damper on your festivities. Maybe they were just meant for me. Maybe there is someone missing from my table. Maybe I am the preacher AND the choir. But if just one person reading this reaches out to a loved one today… then for THAT I will be truly THANKFUL.


Hope Out And HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Treat Me Like A Dog….(Does)


I will be the first to admit that I am not a big dog (or cat for that matter) person. I am not anti-dog, just have never invested the time, money and energy into raising one. However, I know plenty of people who adore their four-legged furry friends. They are considered part of the family. And I take no issue with that. In fact with the more modern view of canine co-habitation some of the traditional expressions seem dog-gone mean. "Sick As A Dog"…"Going To The Dogs"…"He’s A Dog". And while that last one in particular is meant to be an insult, I would like to suggest we evaluate exactly what it would mean if "He" or "She", behaved more like a DOG.  I believe we might all have better relationships if we took our cues from the canine variety.

Let’s Take A Look

They Are Extremely Loyal – This marks the highest and most valuable trait.  Dogs are with you no matter what. Bad hair days all the way to bad everything days. The good ones too. They are unshakeable. Right by your side. Unconditional love. Whether you want to take a run in the park or have to curl up on the couch with the flu, they are faithfully right there.  Is that the way you behave towards your significant other? Do they know how important they are. That you are there for the long haul. They should. Loyalty is the one quality you cannot fake or buy. You either have it, or you don’t.  

They Are Always Happy To See You Come Home – When the key turns in the lock, they perk up. Sometimes you have been gone all day at work. Or it is just a night out with friends. But when you return home, they greet you with a wet kiss and great excitement. When your love walks in, do you take the time to show your delight? To know they have been missed with great expectancy for their return is excellent insurance to secure that return. (Read that sentence again and let it soak in.)  We tend to want to be where we are most appreciated and welcomed.

They Make The Best Cuddle Partners – Whether on the above mentioned flu couch or just all settled in for movie night, your faithful pooch loves nothing more than to scoot in as close as they can to you. When was the last time there was no discernible daylight between you and your partner? Cozy up soon. Even try a little petting. I guarantee you will not be disappointed.  

They Will Run Ahead To Blaze The Path And Stand Between You And Danger – I love that no matter how small the dog or fierce the adversary, your pup will not back down. My heart breaks to read stories of faithful dogs that have paid the ultimate price to save or stay with their owner in peril. Ladies, that is exactly how your man should treat you. Would he run into the fire for you? Stare down a villain? Of course, I pray you never need to find out, but sometimes the little things are important too. Make sure you choose the one who will always have your back. There is a reason they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. And while I am not sure that is true, I will use that phrase to share this. You are not going to change your partner. If they are not good to you now, they never will be.

Dogs have other characteristics too. They are very smart. They can be taught to fetch and roll over. (I’ll let you decide when those actions might be appropriate.) They are very playful. And one of my favorites…non-judgemental. They don’t care if you drink the milk straight out of the carton. And they won’t rat you out if you wear the same socks or pjs two nights in a row. (Not that I’m admitting to either….)

Now we do have to put up with some less than stellar attributes as well.

Some shed. So know that wayward hairs can show up in unusual places.

They will watch you eat and beg for food.

On occasion they may sniff around and/or mark their territory. That’s all good. It just means all functions are a go. Being territorial is not always a bad thing. It is comforting to feel insulated and guarded. They say every dog will have his day. So let him have his.

And let’s not forget the treats…. Rewards work well. And I do not mean that in a degrading way. Positive affirmation and special goodies forge a lasting bond. You are barking up the wrong tree if you think you can withhold love and affection to use as incentives. That will only backfire on you. Your favorite pooch will always return home when let out to run, but if you starve them, they may rustle through the neighbor’s yard. Keep them well fed at home.

Ok, enough of the double entendres and silly comparisons. I think I have made my point. As humans we all crave love and attention and affection. I guess, the animals do too. Probably why they are such a good fit for us.  The bottom line is this..…treat your love like you want to be treated. Some would even say treat your love as good as you treat your dogs!

I will now just let this sleepy dog lie.


Hope Out!


I am writing this on the evening of my 52nd birthday; sitting on the dark porch of a rustic mountain cabin listening to the beautiful sound of a rushing creek literally feet away. This is a perfect spot to celebrate the victory of another year well lived and the promise of a new one dawning. As I have driven around these mountains this weekend with all their twists and turns and passed trees of magnificent color my heart is full. I am richly blessed and abundantly thankful. And as I pause here on this secluded spot hidden from my noisy and sometimes complicated world, I want to talk a minute about acceptance.

When I look up acceptance in the thesaurus, the three words that speak to me the most are: Approval, Recognition and Permission. All three of these combined embody the sentiment that I am fully aware and give myself the permission and green light to own these personal discoveries. That is actually quite a liberating accomplishment.

Very few days go by where I am not the recipient of an email that states I have been approved or accepted for some amazing offer. An offer that most likely is a scam or the very least sketchy and unreliable. Most too-good-to-be-true deals are exactly that and have a catch.  I rarely ‘accept’ those rainbow and unicorn promises. But as I face the first day of my 53rd year, I have determined there are a few things that I will now accept.

I accept that everything in my life did not turn out the way I wanted. I am not alone in this, I understand. I do however intend to be one of the few who do not constantly bemoan the fact. Short changes happen. Skip overs exist. I did not get hired, chosen or loved on more than one occasion. I grew up in the generation where everyone did not get a trophy for just showing up. I have gone home empty handed. Yet I survived and became stronger. Sometimes it is as simple as a bad decision. Whether rebellion or dream following, a desired path can sometimes dead end. Lead to nothing. Or worse than nothing; heartache, debt or loss. It is difficult to admit sometimes that we need a do-over. Fortunately in life we are allowed U-Turns. There is always a new road waiting to be traveled and explored. I can accept that too!

I accept that I am not a Size 8 anymore. (Ok, maybe I haven’t quite accepted this, but I’m close.) I have three closets full of clothes. A closet for clothes a size too big; a closet for clothes a size too small, and the closet I used today; just right. (I suppose being in the mountains made me channel The Three Bears.) But it’s true. I don’t want to give up the size too small, because maybe…just maybe. And well, let’s face I did eat a lot of junk food this weekend. The closet across the hall might become useful. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves to just lose those pesky ten pounds. Or twenty. But even if only for today, I accept that I am just right!

I accept that I am an introvert. This is a recent personal acknowledgment. I belong to a wonderful and vibrant social group. Over the years I have attended countless events and functions. And while I love them all and have met the greatest of friends, there are times when I feel alone in the crowd. That my emotional energy was checked at the door with my coat. From time to time I worried that I was defective. That it was abnormal. That I was a misfit. I have come to understand, and yes, even accept that in fact I am just an introvert. And to correct a fallacy, that is not even close to a mental illness. It just means that I step a little further inside of myself when I am out in the world. My life’s circle may be a bit smaller than others, but no less dynamic. Being alone for me can sometimes be a blessing and not a curse. And when I choose to engage in a conversation with somone it is because I am genuinely interested and believe I have something of value to contribute. However if I choose to just listen, it is because I am genuinely interested and believe I have something to learn. I may not always love the fact that I cannot be the life of the party or sparkle in the room, but I can accept that I am uniquely qualified to be me. And that is enough.

Finally, I accept that everyone will not like me. This is probably the hardest one. Because I’m such a dang likeable gal. What’s wrong with them? Seriously, I’m a hard core people pleaser and it has been challenging to come to terms with this. But I have. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I do not always fit nicely into a pre-determined box. My views and ideals are colorful, diverse and at times even rebellious. I tend to speak my mind more now and worry about it less. Don’t get me wrong; I’m still extremely mild mannered by most standards. But I’m ok with being different. And I’m definitely ok with those that don’t like my  unique kind of different. Their approval is not required to make my life rich and wonderful.

So as I finish up to head inside to fall asleep to the sound of the creek outside my window, I want to thank all of you in my life. Those that have helped me conquer a fear or realize a dream. Those that offered their shoulder to lean one when my life took a wrong turn. Or shared a decadent dessert with me. Or talked to me at a party when I sat alone on the couch. Everyone that helped me learn to accept this wonderful life that I have and aided in my beautiful journey. It is because of all of you that I celebrate this birthday with peace and joy and of course…. HOPE!




Hope Out

Come Sail Away



This was meant for Columbus Day, but I missed the mark just a bit. (Yes, the pun was intended.)

Hopefully it will still resonate with the Explorers of Life out there.

I love the following quote. It inspires me because it speaks of bravery, adventure and even my favorite….Hope!

If the highest aim of the captain were to preserve his ship, he would keep it forever in the port.

Becoming the Captain of a ship is a high honor. The title is not bestowed lightly or achieved with ease; but earned through a demanding and rigorous process. There is also great responsibility as he (or she) is tasked with all aspects of operation; the seaworthiness of the craft, navigation, the crew. This ship is the visible evidence of all their hard work and a source of great pride. The very last thing a Captain would want is to see any harm befall the treasure he has been charged with. But this magnificent vessel with swabbed decks and polished brass cannot just float grandly in the safety of the harbor. A ship is designed for open waters. It was meant to conquer the waves and the wind. The only way for the Captain to fulfill his destiny is to steer out into the waiting expanse. For as surely as the Captain loves his vessel, he must also love the sea.

Now, for me personally, I understand all too well the urge to play it safe. Hunker down. Drop anchor. Ride out the storm. Let someone else chart the course. But that’s the problem. Because then it becomes ‘their’ course. We all have to pilot our own voyage. Whether or not we believe we are up for the task of Captain, we have all been given the responsibility of our own Life Vessel. There is no one more uniquely qualified than you.  A First Mate by your side can be a welcomed addition, but always cherish and take seriously the job of finding your own way.

Of course there will be times when you do feel lost. The water goes on for miles. The horizon seems endless. Please know now is not the time to abandon the ship.  There are plenty of ‘navigational’ tools to utilize. Lessons learned from others. Books. (My personal favorite is the Bible.)  A trusted friend. Sometimes even a professional opinion is needed. A good Skipper understands he does not have to do everything alone and will use the resources at his disposal to make sure he does not run aground.

Also, I am not discounting the storms. They will come. You will need to batten down the hatches at times and cling to the mast. Just remember the winds are only for a short time. Do not despair. And even though you probably cannot see them, there are other craft out there with you. Their boats are rocking and lurching as well. Instead of giving in to your grief and fear, try to give aid to someone else. Most of you know, or have heard the name of Captain Edward Smith. He was the Captain of the Titanic. (That was not his finest hour for sure.) But how many of you know the name of Captain Arthur Rostron? He was the Captain of the RMS Carpathia. That ship was also nearby in the same waters when the Titanic hit the iceberg. When Captain Rostron heard about the disaster, he steered his vessel towards the sinking ship and was responsible for the rescue of many survivors. He could have decided that his vessel was too precious to head towards peril, but he didn’t. He faced the peril and as a result lives were saved.

We may not actually have too many chances to save someone from an iceberg, but I bet you can find those that do feel like they are drowning. Your kind word, encouraging text, dinner out, or prayer on their behalf may in fact be the lifeline they need. Never get so immersed in your own struggles that you cannot reach out to be a beacon for someone. The residual splash back can put your vessel back on the right course as well.

Now we must also be careful to not relinquish the care or steering of our vessel to anyone else. Truth be told, in your lifetime you will run across a multiple of people who will try and take the helm of your boat. Pull out the plank and want you to take a stroll. (Usually that means they have shipwrecked their own and want to have a shot at yours.) Pirates do not always look like Blackbeard. Or Somalis. They can look quite familiar and take the form of family and friends or even a partner. Some well intentioned; some not so much. Advice can be helpful at times. And a faithful crew is certainly very valuable. We were not meant to sail alone. But YOU are the CAPTAIN. Never forget and never let go.

Sailing is not a perfect science however as we circle back around to Columbus. Even with all his skills and education, Christopher still did not end up where he thought he was going.
(Hmmm. Now doesn’t that sound familiar.) Occasionally however these ‘mistakes’ can turn out to be the best thing that could happen. Life’s waters can push us away from where we thought we wanted to land and move us on to a better shore. We can the update our navigational charts and add a new destination to our map. Discovering a brand new world can make us feel pretty darn special and victorious.

And the one really grand thing about a ship…if in fact you do drop anchor at an unfriendly port, the sea is still out there waiting for you to try again. The sun on the horizon is calling your name. Treasure your Life Vessel, but never hide it in a cove.  

Sail Towards Your Destiny


Hope Out

Speed Dating Or Speed Trap (It Is About Time )

I recently missed an opportunity to go to a Speed Dating Event. And by missed, I mean, I chose not to go. Not because of lack of interest. I have been curious about it for years. The Greased Lightning of Love.  I am just not sure how well I would do. I am a wallflower, watching the room from the corner kind-of-girl.  At these events, they don’t put the tables in the corner. You have to jump right in at a break neck pace and bring your A Game. Whatever alphabet my game has typically works at a snail’s pace. (Can we all say Over-Thinker?)

The origins of speed dating, in a very interesting piece of trivia, traces back to 1998 when a Los Angeles Rabbi trademarked the term and the concept as a way for Jewish people to meet and marry. Seriously... I would not make this up. (Just sit on that information for a minute.)  Now, I absolutely am not an expert in Jewish traditions, culture or dating habits, but I find it extremely fascinating that a Rabbi came up with the original In-Person Tinder Ap.

So let us review the basic concept of Production Line Dating.

It can vary from location and sponsor, but basically you have tables in a room with an even number of women and men. One gender is designated as the slider. Usually it is the men.  So all the women come in and sit down on one side of the table. The men then come and find a seat across from a woman. A start buzzer sounds and you have approximately 6-8 minutes to talk with the person directly in front of you. When the buzzer sounds again, all the men slide one chair over and the process begins again. There is a tally sheet and each person notes who they would like to get to know better. At the end of the night, if there is a ‘match’, both people are given the others contact information.

I don’t know about you, but that seems like a lot of pressure to me. The upside is you can meet a lot of guys/gals, but I have enough trouble getting psyched up to try and impress one guy….now I have to impress 15??  And what can you actually accomplish in 6 minutes? You can’t even boil an egg or make it through the Zaxby’s Drive Thru. It takes me 6 minutes to figure out which shoes to wear, much less which guy I want to give my phone number to. And don’t get me started me on the competition. They are literally on either side. That’s all I would need, as my luck would have it, to sit between the likes of Jennifer Anniston and Sandra Bullock! Plus, knowing me, I couldn’t concentrate because I would eavesdrop on the other conversations. I’m just nosey like that. It all makes my head hurt a little.  

Since my curiosity was already piqued I did a little more research. Turns out, according to a study in the Science of Love (true thing), it only takes between 90 seconds and 4 minutes of face-to-face interaction to determine attraction. (I guess this would explain the dates that have left me before the drinks arrived.) In another unusual tidbit of this study, travel was more important than previous marriages or a smoking habit. (They obviously didn’t talk to me. My marriage stories are far more entertaining than my travel ones.) Age (as in younger) is more important to men and height (as in taller) is more important to women. The men have the advantage here because chairs are an equalizer in height; not so much for wrinkles.

There are variations of Speed Dating too. Some cities have Speed Networking. People show up and exchange business cards, chat briefly in a happy hour type setting in order to broaden their exposure and increase their contact base. In the UK, they actually have Speed Political Meetings. Constituents can come meet their representatives. (They just can’t stay long enough to ask a question that would make the representatives uncomfortable.)

And then there is Speed Food Gathering. There is a new grocery store opening in the area. The one service they hype is the Personal Shopper. You go online, fill out your list, drive up to the store and they bring out your order. Admittedly that is pretty sweet. I despise grocery shopping. But there is still something to be said for the process. I do not think I’m ready to surrender my power to check the expiration date or squeeze the tomatoes. I like to check out the deals and yes, I admit, I will buy something if I like the packaging. I can see how curb side milk pick up might be handy, but I still believe certain things need hands on attention. What is the limit to all these new fangled time saving tricks?

And why are we this terribly obsessed with saving time? What are we doing that is so important  we have to rush through important experiences and decisions in our lives? We have become a society that doesn’t appreciate putting time and effort in what should be a meaningful journey. We operate at full throttle like we are just on the verge of missing the next big thing, yet we end up missing all the little things. Checking off too many tasks in a day planner that doesn’t leave time for the day. I think the phrase is called…going nowhere fast. What are we doing to ourselves my friends?

I think I got off track a little. It does strike me though as ironic how much work we put into saving time just so we have more time to do work. I vote we all slow down a bit. Take a break. Enjoy the sunrise; or sunset. Walk the dog. Take a hike. Watch a movie. Go on a date with ONE person. Talk 60 instead of 6 minutes. See how that might work.

I’m not totally against Speed Dating. I might try it one day. At the very least, it should provide enough fodder for one of these entries. But for now I think I will avoid hitting the fast track of love. I’ll just take the scenic route. Maybe stop by the grocery store, actually go inside and ram my cart into the cute guy at produce counter.

We both still like to squeeze our own tomatoes.


Hope Out

Serial Daters (Silly Rabbit, Two Scoops of Magically Delicious Chaos)


As a single girl I have learned over the years that we all have different relationship goals. Some want to get married. Some want a steady romance, but not ready for marriage. Others actually like being single and the ‘goal’ is to stay that way. And then there are those, whom by choice or mental instability go the route of the serial dater.

A serial dater is defined as one who dates and/or has multiple partners. A revolving door, if you will, of playmates and activities. They enjoy the variety.  No pressure to focus on just one person.  It has even been referred to as a “healthy option to avoid obsession”.  Yeah, that’s a stretch for me, but nice try.

There are those that believe it decreases boredom while increasing amusement. However that usually comes at someone’s expense. And speaking of expense, it is not the path to take if you are on a tight budget. Going out several times a week can put a huge dent in your pocket. Serial dating can also take on different forms. It can be used by those just looking for fun and an assortment of activities.  Some apply the concept just to have casual sex. Others might combine those two while claiming to actually be looking for someone to take seriously.

I guess it sounds like I’m a hater. I don’t really mean to be. I understand you cannot meet one person, one time and decide you have found forever. (Unless you live in a Lifetime movie.) It is a process. I get that. Maybe I’m just jealous. I am not good at juggling. At my age I can’t remember my grocery list if there are more than two items. I certainly could not be responsible for remembering multiple names/dates/places to be. I would have to be lucky enough to only date guys named Bill. Or Xavier.

So since I am obviously incapable of being a serial dater, I will do what everyone else does when they can’t master a skill….. Mock it.

So here is my Ode To Cereal (I mean Serial) Daters:

Alpha-Bits – This Serial Dater (hereafter referred to as SD) has a Rolodex of names ready at their disposal for a last minute rendezvous.

Fruit Loops – This wacky SD can’t make up their mind and keeps going back to ‘recycle’ dates. The crazy thing about Fruit Loops, is that it takes one to know (or go back to) one.

Cheerios – Just happy being free and unattached. Always up for a good time.

Corn Pops – The SD who pops in and out of your life/phone just when you think they are gone for good. The difference between Fruit Loops and Corn Pops is that you don’t keep falling for their games.

Corn Flakes – This SD is just Plain and Non-Committal. (At least if you are going to be non-committal, be exciting and flamboyant.)

Frosted Flakes – Non-Committals with gray hair.

Fruity Pebbles – We ALL know SDs like these. Just plain crazy.  Avoid at all costs.

Honeycomb – These are the sweet talkers. They want you to believe they are not really SDs. They know just the right things to say to make you believe they are legit. It takes a little time and gut instinct, but you will eventually see through them.  

Life – This SD is of a more serious variety. They are not ready to settle down, but they are upfront about their plan/agenda. I guess if you are going to spend time with a SD, this would be a good one to go with.   

King Vitaman – Since they don’t have a Queen Vitaman, I’m going gender specific and say.. He’s the MAN. (Or thinks he is.)

Kix – Just wants to have fun. Similar to Cheerios, except much more exciting.

Lucky Charms – If you are charming, you might get lucky.  I actually met a guy whose online profile name was Lucky Charms. True story.

Raisin Bran – This one tries hard to keep you going.

Rice Krispies – Snap, Crackle, Pop. Always exciting, but with too much going on. Hard to pin down to anything specific and not much substance.

Special K – He/She is convinced you will keep answering their texts, because they are Special…K?

Total – No lack of self-confidence with this SD. They believe they are the whole package. It is quite possible they are. But no one is permitted to stick around long enough to find out for sure.  

Trix – This silly SD always has something up their sleeve.

And last but not least…

Wheaties – The SD of Champions. They are experts at juggling and multi-tasking. Maybe they are honest about it. Maybe they are comfortable with this lifestyle. One thing for sure, they have done it for so long they couldn’t be in a serious relationship if they wanted to.

Ok, ok…I guess I am finished with the ridicule. It is probably true that many serial daters are just in a transitional phase and want to explore possibilities. There is no crime in that. It is helpful when they are upfront with their dates about their motivations . I will be optimistic and say most of them probably are. For those of us who still fall for, or are mis-lead by them, just know it has nothing to do with you or your worth. It is just where they find themselves on the journey. We are all allowed a spot on the path.  

It is very difficult to be single, starting over and dating after 50. The pool is shrinking, the waistline is expanding; it’s not always easy to read the intentions of the person sitting across the table from you. Just keep a positive outlook. And understand there is no one-size-fits-all way to dating. Stick to what feels authentic to who you are. If you become really good at being yourself, you will attract the right people into your life. Dating or otherwise.

As for me,  I’ll stick with Capt’n Crunch. (I’ve always loved a man in uniform.)


Hope Out.  

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 15th 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……


Are You Looking For Excuses Or Solutions (We Find What We Search For)

Excuses are like pennies you find on the floor. Easy to spot and pretty much anywhere, but not really helpful in the grand scheme of things....