Inspiration

Remember to Look Up!

~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

As with most everyone this time of year, time is racing by and the laundry list of things to accomplish before Christmas seems never-ending.  I have to confess, being newly pregnant with our fourth child, my days have been spent in a blur of nausea and exhaustion.  I can hardly find the motivation to feed my children and myself let alone figure out the gift of gratitude I ought to be putting together for my girl’s teachers at school.  I keep thinking how grateful I am that I have no elf on our shelf.  As surely, the elf would have to report my poor behavior and lack of motivation.

However, in one of those moments when I was dragging myself aimlessly around the house, as my sweet husband made us dinner, I remembered to turn on the outdoor Christmas lights.  When I went outside to do so, I remarked at how freezing it was and quickly turned back to go inside.  Upon locking the front door, I glanced through the little windows at the top of our door.  I saw the most magnificent sky filled with hot pinks that couldn’t fully be captured in a picture, though I tried.  Without realizing it, I breathed, “Wow.”  My husband asked about my comment and I responded, “I almost missed out by not looking up.”

 

A reminder to look up was just the right message I needed this week.  I use the word ‘up’ not just as a reference to the sky, but in the general manner of optimism, hope, and, for those that are Christian, a reminder to look upwards towards heaven and our Savior, even Jesus Christ.
For a variety of reasons, the last few weeks have not been easy for me.  But I know for a surety that the moments that were filled with the most peace were when I got on my knees and plead with my Father in Heaven to comfort the aching hearts of loved ones, and myself, who were facing disappointments and pain.
There is so much more joy to be found in looking upward and outward!  There are sunsets to be seen, hills to climb and accomplish, lives to be brightened, and hope to be had.  My Mom had a doorknob hanger that now resides in our home that reads, “Look up!  That’s where the blessings come from.”  Indeed they do.
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Two Makes It True

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

I’m a firm believer in the “two makes it true” philosophy.  If I hear something from two separate sources, then I imagine it is most likely true.  I’m also a firm believer in finding out the truth for myself.  As a result, I hold on to the “two makes it true” information until I find out otherwise.  This thought process has helped me a lot in life.  The one bit of information that it becomes cloudy on is whether or not Santa is real.  Multiple sources, mostly under the age of 5, have informed me that Santa is real.  Further personal experiences has told me otherwise.  Perhaps that’s why I do not believe in the physical presence of Santa, but the spirit of Santa still lives on in my heart.  Alas, I digress.

This “two makes it true” philosophy came to the forefront of my mind as I was reading the book
The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are.  I apologize in advance for the many times I will likely reference this book in future posts.  It’s not that it offered earth-shattering ideas, but that it reiterated a lot of concepts I learned in my years of attending therapy.  As I was reading it, I realized how the book was the second source confirming the principles I had learned through difficult and eye-opening therapy sessions.  This book is the “two” that made those therapy concepts “true.”

But better than that, I marveled at how this time I had first put to practice the information I learned in those therapy sessions.  My practice of those principles and the positive results were truly the “two that makes it true.”  So, really this book was the “three.”  Reading this book was the confirmation that those, often painful, therapy sessions really were beneficial to my growth and I’ve now come farther than I realized.  What joy it brought my heart to know that I’m learning and growing.  That change for the better is possible.  Certainly, I have a long way to go.  Don’t we all?

I saw three separate therapists before finding the one that helped change my path.  When I made the call to that fourth therapist, I expressed to her my concern about not finding success with past therapists.  Her response was, “I won’t be able to help you either if you’re not ready to be helped.”  While I still believe her to have been the best therapist out of my experiences, she was right in her response.  Previously, I wasn’t ready to be helped.  I wanted a quick fix.  I wanted the therapists to just take the pain away.  I didn’t really want to have to work at it.  I hadn’t quite grasped before that to truly be healed, it involved re-opening the wounds and cleaning them out.

I am fully aware that there are many out there that live much more secure lives when it comes to their self-worth.  I too have a greater understanding of my self-worth at this point in my life.  I’m learning that I am worth loving just as I am.  But that wasn’t always the case.  I didn’t even realize how far I had come from the woman I was 6 years ago until I was reading The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are.

I think today, more than anything, I wanted to share that it’s not too late to do the uncomfortable for the hope of a brighter tomorrow.  Maybe set aside some time today to consider ways in which you might be holding yourself back or, worse, being unnecessarily hard on yourself.  The path to bettering ourselves is not an easy one.  We have to look at the ugly and make sense of it before we can move beyond it.  Maybe that means attending therapy for some, meditating for others, or reading an inspirational book.  But I am happy to report that working through the pain can result in something beautiful.  It’s similar to that magical feeling of believing in the spirit of Santa.  It feels light-hearted and hopeful.

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Plague of the Mommy Brain

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

DISCLAIMER:  This post is in regards to the Mommy Brain Plague, but could easily be considered the Scatter-Brained Plague. The two are interchangeable.  Mom or not, this post has some good tips that have helped me this past week.  However, I apologize in advance if the following narrows my audience at all.

You know those moments when you’re at the park with your kids and a fellow Mom friend and her kids?  You’re standing there trying to carry on an adult conversation while your kids play.  Then, Little Johnny or Baby Sue come in and ask you to push them on the swings, carry them across the glider, watch them do a trick, or tattle on some other child who is being mean.  All viable reasons to interrupt.  This post isn’t about neglecting those requests from your child.  This post is about the moment when you return to your friend after fulfilling your child’s request and can’t for the life of you figure out what you were talking about just a minute ago.  It’s the surest sign of Mommy Brain.  You end up having this choppy and repetitive conversation.  It’s like when you’re reading a page and you realize you were just reading the words and not paying attention.  So you have to start that same sentence over a million times because you can’t seem to focus on the next portion of the story.  Except for it’s worse, because you can’t even remember what book you were reading from in the first place.  So.  Frustrating.

That’s my brain lately.  Except instead of it happening at the park, it’s happening all the time.  I’m serious when I say that if it weren’t for the Task List in my phone, my brain would be completely mush.  I can’t seem to see a thought process through from the beginning to the end.  As a result, I started to shut down.

I have this bin in my kitchen that serves as my In Box.  School papers, bills, letters, coupons, magazines, etc.  All stuff that needs to get done.  This bin was stacked so high it was about to tip over.  The problem is that Mommy Brain couldn’t sort through it.  So it just got worse and worse.

Then we got this letter from our rental property management saying that the owner was coming to inspect the home.  I’m told it’s just an annual check to ensure smoke detectors are working and such.  But, boy, it’s amazing how quickly an owner walk-through can motivate you to get off your dupa and tend to the home.

So, I did it!  I went through my In Box.  And then I went through the kids toys, clothes, and books to omit some of the clutter.  Plus, we finally raked all the leaves and needles from our front and backyard.  And my husband tended to some walls that could use a little touch-up.  It felt good.  It felt really good.

What I learned from this week of decluttering, reorganizing, and fixing is that all these do a world of good in treating Mommy Brain.  Instead of my mind trying to process the billions of things that I need to do but don’t want to do, I’m doing them and it’s freeing up some space for a full and complete thought process.  Who knew?

Another thing that I noticed that helps is reading.  Not just reading a book, but reading a variety of things and formats.  For instance, I get the Costco Connection and the AAA Magazine each month.  They’ve been helping add height to my In Box pile.  There really isn’t anything earth-shattering in there, but I’ll often find a little gem that will get my mind thinking about things that it would not have thought of otherwise.  My husband does this too, except for he does it with Wikipedia.  There is this button on the main page of Wikipedia called “Random Article.”  He pushes it to see where it takes him and then he just goes deeper into the rabbit hole hopping from one article to the next and clicking on links within them.  It’s good for our brains to think of fresh concepts.  Reading new things, trying new activities, tasting new foods all help stimulate your brain and, in my case, fight off the Plague of the Mommy Brain.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know myself well enough to know that my In Box is going to get out of control again and my house will be in shambles come the next hiccup in our daily lives.  But, for now, I want to admit to myself that cleaning up, clearing out, and reading fresh ideas really does do me, and I imagine you too, a world of good!

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Be The Hero in Your Story

~ Sara W. ~ 2 Comments

Wow!  What a difference a week makes.  I just returned from my first cruise ever.  More amazing than that, my husband and I survived 15+ hours of plane travel with three young children.  One of those children being a 20-month-old with a cold.  It’s one of those experiences that you would put on your Mom resume if such a thing existed: Kept a cheerful disposition and patience under physical and emotional duress including, but not limited to, incessant screaming, clawing at the face, smacking, kicking, tears, and general tantrums.

It was all worth it though for the wonderful memories that were had with my husband’s family.  With family all over the United States, it’s a rarity to all be together at the same place and time.  Heck, it was a rarity for us to all be in the same place and the same time on the ship.  They keep you so busy with activities.  One of my favorite portions of the cruise though were the nightly shows.

On our second night on the boat, they had this live show called Villain’s Tonight! featuring Disney villains in a comedic revue-style performance.  It wasn’t my favorite of the stage performances we saw, but it had this line that struck me as poignant.

“Every story needs a villain or else the hero has nothing to do.”

Through my understanding of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I have always understood that there must needs be opposition in all things.  This understanding has helped me to cope with bad things happening to good people.  Certainly, I am not wishing the worst of “villains” into anyone’s life.  I am more focused on the latter part of the line.  Opposition gives us something to do.  It gives us the opportunity to shine.

I didn’t feel like a hero at the end of our travels yesterday.  I felt completely depleted and defeated.  The flight on the way to our cruise was no different.  One of my son’s fits on that journey literally left me in tears.  But I survived both of these days of travel with little regrets on my own behavior.  I actually was laughing at the end of the final flight where my son screamed from the depths of his bowels for the final 35 minutes of a two hour flight on a puddle jumper sized plane.   I actually felt that I handled it as gracefully as I could considering the circumstances.  I don’t consider my son a villain, but rather the situation as being the villain.  And while I may have felt physically and emotionally spent, I was in fact a hero in that situation and my husband my trusty side-kick.

For years, I have been my own villain.  There was a hero within me hoping to do something beyond the mundane.  The problem though is that I let my internal villain convince the internal hero that there was nothing to do.  That’s a pretty convincing villain.  The worst thing you could feel is apathy.  Even anger can have a more positive impact than apathy in some cases.  While I have no concept of what pains African Americans have suffered throughout history, I imagine anger might have been one of the emotions Rosa Parks felt that day she refused to give up her seat on a bus in 1955.  Being fed up with the unequal treatment and taking action is what led her to become an icon in the civil rights movement.  The villain in her story was prejudices and she did something to become the hero.

The Villains Tonight! quote made me want to share the insight I had on looking at opposition as an opportunity to do something good, to be something better, to bring more light into the world.

As I type this post, I’m reminded of another hero; my nephew, Johnny.  He is a hero to me and so many others.  He is the unfailing hero in his own story.  He was born with Down Syndrome.  One of the biggest obstacles he has faced as a result of this genetic disorder is poor muscle tone.  Typical physical milestones were not met at the customary age for an infant and toddler.  But you know what?  My precious nephew has officially seen the rewards of his heroic efforts.  He took his first unassisted steps last week during the same week that he celebrated his second birthday.  Such an example to us all of what we can accomplish when we do something and push ourselves forward.  He endured countless hours of physical therapy and worked his way up to this milestone with the undying love and support of his parents, nanny, and so many others.  His parents, my brother and his wife, are also heroes to me.  They felt, what I am told is, the common mourning process of realizing that their child will not be typical only to find that the joy of being a parent to a child with Down Syndrome is a blessing beyond words.  They have given so much of themselves physically and emotionally into my sweet little nephew.  They are reaping all the rewards that come from being selfless; from being a hero.  They have this happy little face enriching their lives daily.

The villains in our lives do not take the form of a monstrous lady octopus or a crazed witch offering us an apple in a dark forest.  Our villains are the daily opposition we face in its most tumultuous and simplest forms.  Real life villains come in the form of illnesses needing to be fought, bills needing to be paid, addictions needing to be broken, hearts needing to be mended, responsibilities needing to be met, dreams needing to be obtained, children needing our patience and countless more. We have the opportunity to be the hero and to do something good rather than nothing.  I am choosing to be the hero in my own story just as my nephew has chosen to do so in his.

As a footnote, this month is Down Syndrome Awareness Month.  If you have the means to do so, I invite you to visit the National Down Syndrome Society’s website and donate to the cause.

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Life’s Little Equations

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

My eldest is an amazing artist for a 7-year-old.  Honestly, I think she’s a pretty good artist for any age.  She draws better at the age of 7 than I do at 32-years-old.  Admittedly, I am not a very good artist.  Stick figures are practically a challenge for me.  Though my sweet daughters would tell you that I’m an excellent artist, I’ve accepted my lack of artistic abilities.  Unfortunately, my middle child has not come to accept that her drawings will not be as precise as her big sister’s work.

I happen to love my middle child’s drawings.  I think they are full of personality and improving each day, as do all things we practice at.  Sadly, she makes the mistake that many of us do by comparing ourselves to people who have had years of additional practice.

A friend of mine and I fall victim to this same detrimental thinking even in adulthood.  This blog is a perfect example.  My friend was encouraging me to start a blog since she thought I had good insight to share and that I wrote well.  My response to her was that there is nothing that I can say that someone hasn’t already said and, frankly, said better.  My natural instinct is to discredit all that I am because there are many out there who are more qualified.  How unfair is that to myself?

This same friend, who serves as one of my main cheerleaders, has recently decided to take up drawing and painting.  With no effort in years to draw or paint, she has already produced amazing pieces of art.  Every compliment I give her, she responds with, “Oh, please.  This is not good.  You should see this one artist’s work.”  She’s not trying to be modest.  She genuinely thinks her art is no big deal.  But it IS!  It’s fabulous!

Why do we do this to ourselves?

In my efforts to comfort my 5-year-old who was in tears this past weekend over her perceived lack of drawing abilities, I found myself pondering what I was saying to her.  I realized I should be listening to the words coming out of my mouth.  I was so frustrated that she didn’t understand how gifted she was and how comparing herself to someone who has had years of additional practice is irrational.

Wasn’t I just like my little one?  She wanted me to draw the pictures for her because she thought so little of her own drawings.  I didn’t want to put my fingers to the keyboard for the very same reason.  Someone can do it better.  But, can they?  Someone may always be a better artist, a better musician, a better writer, etc.  But will they put in it what only YOU can put into your work?  Your soul.  Your individual beautiful soul.

This all came to a huge AH-HA moment when I was reading to my middle child the book she brought home from her school library.  It was a delightful book called This Plus That: Life’s Little Equations.  I loved the darling drawings and great message, but boy did it hit home when I saw these two pages:

As long as we put our soul into something, what does it matter how fantastic or dull it is?  The irony is that my daughter rated this book 2 out of 3 stars.  I would have given it 10 stars, if the scale allowed.  Not everyone is going to appreciate every little thing that we do and create.  But as long as we keep practicing and trying and putting it out there, someone is bound to find joy in our work.  At the very least, if we put our soul in it, then we alone should find beauty in it.
We should also keep in mind that our soul does not have to be put into every one of these things.  I’m okay with my lack of artistic abilities, because I don’t enjoy drawing in the first place.  I have neither practiced nor put my soul into drawing for that very reason.  I enjoy literature very much so that is where I will put my soul.  I’ll also dabble in music and dance, as my heart delights in those things.
Our souls are beautiful. I say we practice sharing them whether it be through color, words, sound, or movement.  The more we practice, the better we will be at mastering something, or so this same book tells me.

The inside flaps of the book claim that this book was designed for ages 4-8.  I beg to differ.  I think this book’s message is for all ages.  I know this 32-year-old definitely needed the Color + Words + Soul = Uplifting Message.

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Is Timing Everything?

~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

Everything happens for a reason.  I’m a firm believer in that credo.  I marvel at the timing of things in my life.  Even one of the saddest moments in my life, the passing of my Mom, had beauty in the timing.  I refer to this as the Lord’s timing.  Others may consider it a gift of karma or coincidence.  Regardless, the timing of those final moments with my Mom were as perfect as the circumstances allowed.

To understand those final moments though, you must look at the weeks building up to them.

I was 27 weeks pregnant with our second child when I first went into preterm labor.  During my hospital visit, my doctor ordered me to be at home on bed rest.  At this point, I was working full-time and my Mom was the caregiver to our eldest.  My Mom also lived with us, as we suspected our time with her was limited and she would need additional care.  Within two weeks of being home on bed rest, my Mom began to become confused and disoriented.  In short, her final days were drawing closer.

(Four generations picture taken just after I was sent home on bed rest and before my Mom’s rapid decline.)

Keep in mind, I should have been at my job working full-time during her final weeks.  But I wasn’t.  I was there to give every ounce I could, while still being mindful of the risk I faced of having a premature baby.  In less than three weeks of me being put on bed rest, my Mom came home on Hospice.  This was completely unexpected for us.  She had just received a surgery that was supposed to buy her additional time.  Instead, it robbed us of projected months with her.

The days following her return to our home on Hospice were filled with heartache and bewilderment.  Yet that final night came to pass as though we were in a play and every person had their cue.  The timing was astonishing.  The eve of my Mom’s passing was the only night where my eldest brother and my sister-in-law were able to spend the night.  They were fortunate enough to have her Mom watch their three children that night.  It was in the wee hours of the morning that my sister-in-law came in to inform me that my Mom’s breathing had changed to that of agonal breathing.  She is a nurse in the Pediatric ICU at a children’s hospital and, sadly, is all too familiar with the sound of a person’s final breaths.  My other brother and future sister-in-law (at the time) were quickly called.  We were worried he wouldn’t arrive in time.  It wasn’t until he did arrive that we understood why she hadn’t let go yet.

One of the first things a Hospice Worker will tell you when they meet with you is that you have to tell your loved one that it’s okay for them to die.  It seems so surreal, but it’s true.  People who have to knowingly face their death oftentimes wait for the green light from loved ones.  During our time with my Mom on Hospice, we had all given her the green light.  It seemed so silly to do so since she barely comprehended our existence.  She was in and out of consciousness constantly.  But, we had all said it was okay for her to go.  All but my brother who had just arrived.

Once my brother and my, now, sister-in-law had arrived, my Mom was gathered around by all of her children.  My brother was faced with the difficult task of letting her go.  My heart aches reflecting on these final minutes with my Mom.  Within the hour of my brother’s final goodbye, our Mom passed from this life and returned Home.

This all happened minutes before our sleepy two-year-old would cry for us from her crib.  It happened on the Sabbath Day, a day that my Mother honored.  It happened with her being surrounded by all of her children.  It happened with our second child still safely in my womb.  It happened in the Lord’s Timing, or rather perfect timing.

There is no “good” time to lose your Mom or anyone for that matter.  There can be beauty though in the timing we are afforded.  My brother was approaching his wedding and I was approaching the birth of our second baby.  Surely, this is not a time that you want to lose your Mom.  Our daughter was born six weeks early and within three weeks of my Mom’s passing.  To this day, I still look at the timing as a tender mercy.  My Mom got to meet our precious baby before we did.  They got to meet one another in their perfect state.  Not only that, my baby girl gave me additional purpose to keep moving forward.  She offered the hope of knowing that joy can still be had.  Blessings can still exist.  We can still be happy.  She was the literal and physical example that life goes on.

I’m not certain how my brother feels about the timing of losing our Mom in regards to his impending marriage.  However, I’ve always respected that he changed all of their plans and chose to be married in Tahiti.  A place where the only person in attendance that they knew would be my Mom watching from above.  I’m grateful that she got to witness their wedding without pain or confusion but with all the love and happiness she could bestow upon them.

Timing is a marvelous thing.  I have seen the magic of perfect timing happen in regards to an eye surgery for my baby girl, a job offer after month’s of hopeless searches, the sale of our home, my very own life being saved as a toddler, the starting of a blog, and the birth of a child.  There are countless ways that our lives have been blessed by the Lord’s Timing.

Again, whether you see it as the Lord’s Timing, or something else, everything happens for a reason.  Sometimes it feels like things will never come to fruition or perhaps they will come to pass when we hoped they wouldn’t.  Ultimately though, things happen for a reason.  It makes the bad times easier if you look for the blessings in the timing.  It makes the good times brighter when you do the same and realize how good you really have it.

My goal right now is to not be so fearful of things that may or may not happen.  I can only do the best that I can.  If pitfalls are supposed to happen, then I will strive to find the silver lining in the timing.  If opportunities are to be had, I hope to be smart enough to act upon them as soon as they’re presented to me.

In my effort to share the perfect quote about timing, I found that there are many avenues of life that rely on the concept that timing is everything.  I couldn’t decide if that was true or not, so I discussed with my husband on the matter.  His response was spot on, “Timing is not everything, but the ability to act when the time comes is everything.”

He referenced the opportunity and timing that was afforded him to move out to California to be with me when he and I lived states apart.  The timing was right, but he could have easily done nothing with that timing.  The same could be said for my Mom’s passing.  I was provided the time to embrace those final weeks with my Mom, to make the most of that time.  And I did.  Those final weeks with my Mom are filled with no regrets.  I cared for her, laid with her, spoke with her, and cherished every moment that I could.  So, timing is everything, IF we act on it.

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As a follow-up, I had readers express some interest in seeing my husband’s insight in the form of a printable reminder.  Here you go!

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Living A Life With Laughter

~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

I truly enjoy hosting friends and family in my home.  I don’t put on a fancy affair.  It’s just Silo Red Cups and Dixie Paper Plates in my home.  Depending on the amount in attendance, we attempt to sit the adults around our dining table.  On that table sit two clear plastic cubes with cards inside, TableTopics Originaland Tabletopics – What Would You Do Edition.  The cards inside have questions on them.  They have so many editions to choose from now.  I prefer the Original questions.  These questions always make for interesting table conversations when we’re hosting.

One of my favorite questions, since it’s the easiest for me to answer is, “What is your favorite noise?”  Laughter.  Laughter is the best noise I’ve ever heard.  There are a lot of beautiful noises in this world, but laughter really is delightfully infectious.  I especially love the laughter of children.  They’re so pure and joyful.  I can’t help but smile, no matter how down I am, when I hear laughter.

The morning my Mom passed away was an incredibly sacred and special moment.  There were many tears and heartache, but there was something I hadn’t expected.  There was laughter.  I laughed that morning.  I laughed more than seemed possible.  As I sat there with my brothers and our spouses, I laughed.  I didn’t find it irreverent either.  My Mom loved to laugh.  She found humor in unexpected places.  Whether it was a too-big-Christmas-tree, a garage sale gone bad, or a refrigerator stuck in a stairwell, she would laugh.  Perhaps that’s why it didn’t seem inappropriate to laugh at such a time.  She would have done the same with us.

“The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache.”
– Marjorie Hinckley in Glimpses into the Life and Heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley

She’s right, it does give me a headache.  Certainly, I’ve cried my fair share of tears in life.  However, I’d like to believe that I have met more moments with laughter than tears.

I was reminded again today of the joy of laughter.  I think it does more than just lighten a mood or brighten a day.  It gives a bit of hope to life.  The laughter on that mournful morning of my Mom’s passing was filled with hope.  A hope that it would all be okay.  We would be able to still find joy in a world that at that moment seemed so unfair.  Something I watched today confirmed that laughter is a symbol of hope in my eyes.

This past Saturday, we had a fire here in town.  You could see it from most anywhere you were in the city limits.  It was that bad.  Shortly after the flames were put out, we received an e-mail informing us that the home on fire was that of a family who attended our church.  The fire started in their living room and took the whole house up in flames with it.  Thankfully, nobody was hurt.

A family of five lived in the home; parents, two teenage daughters, and a young daughter.  The mom took footage of her first time walking through the house to evaluate the damage.  In the video, she walks through the charred remnants of the home and cries as she attempts to explain which “room” she is standing in.  It’s heart-wrenching.  Just before the video comes to an end, I heard something in the back.  It was laughter.  It was the laughter of a young girl.  Innocent laughter.  It brought me hope for the family.  I, obviously, have no idea the devastation this family must be feeling.  It pains me to even comprehend the possibility of losing all my pictures alone.  But then there is that laughter.  An unharmed little daughter is laughing.  There is hope.

I feel fortunate to live a life with laughter.  Sometimes it’s harder to find the humor in life’s setbacks.  When that’s the case, I like to turn to these little gems to brighten my day.  I giggle every single time.

 

 

The greatest noise is laughter.  Live a life filled with it!

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Finding Happiness Amongst Trials

~ Sara W. ~ 2 Comments
This is my boy.  Adorable, right?  His personality matches his infectious smile and gorgeous blue eyes.  This past week he was offering up less smiles and more tears.  He got a stomach bug and was none too happy.  From the looks of it below, my holding out on giving him milk was more devastating to him than the tummy troubles he was facing.

 

Seriously, look at that face.  This is him looking up to me with desperation in his eyes for just a wee bit of milk.  As this is happening, I have this internal dialogue, “Should I give him some?  He just wants some milk.  It probably won’t make THAT much of a difference if he gets a little?  It will give him the comfort he wants.  No, it will only make matters worse.  Must not cave.  I am the adult.  I know what’s best.”

The latter thought is almost comical.  I couldn’t be more clueless.  My husband and I joke about how we thought our parents knew everything when we were kids.  We realized, if they are anything like we are now, they didn’t know much.  However, in this case, I think I may know more than my nearly 18-month old baby.  Milk and stomach bugs don’t play nice together.  I stood firm.

Thinking of this stomach bug and “forced milk fast,” I thought what I have thought many a time as a parent, “This may be awful for a little while, but in the long run I’m doing what’s best for you.”  Shots at the doctor are a perfect example of this conundrum.  I’m sure in my son’s mind, I am a big ol’ mean-o who doesn’t protect him from that woman with a needle.  He screams in pain and for what?  He doesn’t know that I potentially saved him from a life-threatening disease.  He just knows I didn’t protect him from the pain.

Are you seeing where this is headed?

How often are we the 18-month old who just wants milk?  The infant who doesn’t like shots?  The child who hates homework?  The teenager who feels alone?  The college student who is trying to balance school and work?  The broken-hearted?  The victim of a senseless circumstance?  The jobless?  The daughter without a Mom?

Whether you choose to continue the analogy and make my role as a parent similar to that of a Higher Being or not, the situation is the same.  We are meant to endure things that will ultimately lead to our betterment, if we let them.  Certainly we can make choices to avoid such pitfalls in the first place, but oftentimes things just happen.  Pain happens in every form.

I never dreamed of losing my Mom to Ovarian Cancer at such a young age.  While I do enjoy writing, there are no words to express the sorrow I felt, and continue to feel, with the loss of my Mom.  My Mom was intertwined in my daily life and was my best friend.  Her passing affected my life in ways that I never expected.  Those revelations are for another post on another day.

So, how is a toddler unknowingly fasting from milk similar to my grieving process of my Mom?  Both “tragedies” would ultimately be for our betterment.  Of course, it’s so hard to see that when you’re in the middle of it.  Maybe sometimes you don’t see the long term benefits.  I wonder though if we don’t see them because we choose not to see them?

Some good has come from my Mom’s passing.  It seems so shameful to say such a thing.  As if admitting that something positive was gained translates to me being glad my Mom passed away.  Certainly that is not the case.  I yearn for even a moment with my Mom everyday.  But if I choose to only see it as a tragedy with no lessons learned, then I fear I would be wasting my life and my potential to grow.

Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth.  We are happy when we are growing. – William Butler Yeats

My desire is to grow.  To begin.  Fear is such a natural part of me.  Fear of trials has plagued me for years.  I don’t want to fear anymore, I want to grow.  Fear keeps you stagnant.  Faith keeps you moving.

When I think back on the darkest of times in my life, I truly get sick to my stomach.  There are feelings of sorrow and emptiness that I hope I never have to feel again.  However, those moments have taught me lessons that I could not have learned otherwise.  Even more, seeing those trials through and coming out on the other end has brought me a greater sense of hope.

While I am no doctor, I encourage you to ponder your current trials.  Think about what your “forced milk fast” is in your life right now.  As confusing and troubling as it feels in the moment, try to think of the long-term gain that will come from your perseverance in this situation.  Whether you have faith in a Higher Being ultimately knowing your every need, faith in yourself to grow, or both; try to see the silver lining amongst the tarnished circumstance you are facing at this time.

I’m happy to report that after a day and a half of my son not having his drink of choice, he is back to normal and happily drinking his milk again.  Remember the often used Persian proverb, “this too shall pass.”

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Can You Get Yourself All Wrong?

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

This past weekend I went to a lake near our new hometown.  I’m not used to such treasures being so close.  I grew up in Southern California.  We had different treasures of our own there.  It is a land of plenty and yet somehow it was missing something I never knew I needed.  This made me think, while I was floating on the lake, can you get yourself all wrong?  Can you discover that something has been missing in your life without ever knowing it was missing in the first place?

I was spoiled as a kid.  I’d like to think I didn’t act spoiled.  I went to Disneyland frequently as a child.  I had an annual pass to Disneyland nearly constantly from thirteen until I was thirty.  I got to spend time in beach houses for a few summers, attend professional sporting events of all kinds, go to concerts, and went shopping more than I even enjoyed.  I truly love where I grew up.  It made for a fun-filled upbringing.

As I grew into adulthood, I learned that my personal favorites of Southern California were the beach, Disneyland, and attending LA Kings hockey games.  Then, after having kids, I realized that the beach started to become a hassle to get to and parking rates were ever-increasing; Disneyland’s ticket prices were sky-rocketing faster than I could keep up; and hockey games in LA required hours of baby-sitting and loads of money for tickets, food, gas and parking.  Crowds and costs started to make those things I loved less special and, honestly, less attainable.

Then this past weekend, I think it finally hit me that I had it all wrong all those years.  I will not deny that the Pacific Coast is breath-taking, Disneyland is magical, and an LA Kings hockey game is thrilling.  But, since I’ve moved from the hustle and bustle, I’ve seen scenery so gorgeous and virtually untouched that it brought me nearly to tears, found that walking through forests and along waterfalls is magical, and learned that floating a river is heavenly.

I grew up believing these simple truths about myself – I am a Disney girl, I don’t like the great outdoors, I’m not athletic, I don’t camp, and I hate bugs.  I got myself all wrong, well, except for the latter.  I truly hate bugs.  While I haven’t let loose quite yet and gone camping, I foresee it happening sooner than I ever even desired in Southern California.  I’ve been out exploring the great outdoors more in the past seven months than my thirty-one years prior combined.

I’m finding a piece of me here that I had hoped I would find but didn’t expect to find out on the lake last Saturday.  I anticipated a slower paced life would do me good and it has.  However, I never imagined that feeling smaller in this great big universe would make me feel fuller inside.  Is this what it feels like to start growing beyond yourself?

I have a dear friend who I was discussing religion with some years ago.  At the time, she described herself as Agnostic, a person who believes the existence of a deity is unknowable.  When discussing Christianity with her, she replied, “I’m just not sure I can believe it after I’ve spent so many years not believing it.”  She didn’t like the idea of the possibility of having spent all those years “wrong.”

I remember feeling pretty sad at the time about her remark.  But there are many of us that are making similar choices daily in regards to other matters, perhaps less important than religion.  I’ve spent years believing that Southern California was the best place to be.  You have everything you can imagine at your fingertips.  What more can you want?  But, what I didn’t realize was that I needed less not more.  Less lines, less prices, less taxes, less traffic, and less materialism.

I truly don’t intend for this post to be anti-Southern California.  I love where I grew up and look forward to many visits to loved ones, beaches, and Disneyland.  I am merely using this an example.

On this day when America celebrates its independence and our individual freedoms, I encourage those reading to practice their freedoms.  We have the freedom to change our minds and, perhaps, change our path.  Are you trying to fit yourself into a mold that you once fit or were put in to at a young age?  Are you afraid to admit you’ve been wrong all these years?

For those out there that have been good about experiencing the many treasures of this world, thanks for setting the example for the rest of us learning to spread our wings.

I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

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Six Ways to Get Motivated

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

Let me preface this post by saying that I am not a doctor.  I merely have first-person experience with losing motivation.  Honestly, my desire to avoid cleaning up my house is what is helping me rationalize that this post is more important.  The irony, right?

1.  Refer to Your To-Do List

After I had my firstborn, I had Postpartum Depression (PPD).  I have all sorts of memories and feelings tied to those dark months.  The funny thing is with PPD, or with any depression really, is that it wipes away a piece of your functionality.  Most days I could not function past the daily chores of feeding a screaming baby, changing diapers, and feeding myself.  But it was more than just not functioning, my brain couldn’t even process what it SHOULD be doing or getting done.  It was as though depression had made me dumb.  I was ‘depression dumb’.  Shall we coin this term now?

My husband saw the situation for what it was and knew I needed help.  I was losing ground fast.  I was slowly forgetting how to do basic things, like shower regularly.  At the time, he worked close to home and was able to come home for lunch.  He left in the morning and gave me ONE chore to complete before his return for lunch.  Just one.

We had a baby bottle warmer (you know how it is with your first child, right?).  The water inside was needing to be changed.  My one chore was to dump the water out and fill the cup back up.  I didn’t have to clean it.  I didn’t have to do any special treatment to it.  I had to dump the water out and fill it back up.  Guess what?  I DID IT!  I felt like I had conquered the world.  I was given a task and I completed it.  My husband was so proud of me.  He sincerely congratulated me and I enjoyed the satisfaction of completing a task.

So, what does this have to do with referring to a to-do list or even getting motivated?  One of the largest road blocks I face is battling ‘depression dumb’ (it’s already catching on, isn’t it?).  I get in a funk and my mind goes completely blank on what I should be doing.

I create my To-Do List during those moments when my brain is actively thinking of all the many things that need to get done.  I’m a wife and mother, there is ALWAYS something that needs to be done.  Now with smartphones, I have downloaded a free app called Task List – To Do List.  Since I regularly have my phone on me, it’s easy to update the list when the thought hits me.

It’s even more common that I have my phone on me when I’m avoiding life and getting lost in social medias.  Anyone else out there a victim to the time-thief known as social media?

Those times when I sit there trying to forget all that should be getting done, I pull out the list and get a reminder of all the ways that I can actively engage in my daily life.  I sometimes put the smallest of tasks on there just so that I can have the satisfaction of completing a task.  Because sometimes you need to dump out the water and fill the cup back up and you have some added motivation.

2.  Change of Position

I dread the idea of even having to do this one.  This method of getting motivated is most needed for me when I’ve found myself wanting desperately to escape my downs through sleeping.  The idea is that whatever position you are currently in when you feel yourself slipping deeper into the blues, you change it.

This suggestion was offered up once in a therapy session when I confessed that I was taking ridiculously long naps during the day.  I wasn’t getting anything done and my kids were being baby-sat by the TV.  It breaks my heart thinking about all that I missed during this bout of depression and how neglected my kids must have felt.

My therapist revoked me of my napping rights.  I had to keep moving.  Laying down was feeding the depression.

For others it may mean sitting down and taking a break.  Some people lose sight of a healthy balance when they are constantly running their lives at a break-neck pace.  Perhaps that person feels most down when they don’t have a moment to sit.  Maybe they’re wondering what’s all the rush for and it makes them sad to think they’ve lost site of the quiet moments.  Quiet moments are needed to reset the priorities of our motivations.

Simply put, change your position.

3.  Serve

The past couple of days, I felt the signs of ‘depression dumb’ coming on.  I was quickly losing motivation, functionality, and engagement in my world.  Realizing I was withdrawing, I saw that I needed to reach out to my friends.  Guess what?  It turns out they were having their own struggles and unfinished tasks.

As I found ways to serve these friends, I noticed that my blues were dissipating and my functionality was returning.  I was processing thoughts.  I was useful for a moment or two.  Service is an amazing blessing for all parties involved.  It isn’t always the easiest to perform or even be motivated for in the first place, but it always brings about more good.

A fresh perspective, the joy in knowing you lightened a burden, and the break from the monotony can do wonders for motivating yourself with your own life.

4.  Go for A Walk

You’re probably thinking what I’m thinking, “I’d love to go for a walk, IF I WERE MOTIVATED!”  Agreed.  This suggestion may need to go hand and hand with another suggestion from this list.

As a young girl, my parents would take me on walks at night.  As I grew, the walks continued.  Some of the greatest conversations I have had with my parents were on walks with them.  When I got married, my husband and I would go on long walks too.  I can recall countless times in all of these walks when I started the walk with nothing to say.  By the end of the walks, I felt like I had accomplished world peace.  Thoughts, ideas, hypotheticals, goals, and deep discussions were had on these many walks.

There’s something about getting that blood flowing that opens the mind and motivates the body to follow suit.

5.  Play Music

This suggestion only really works if you enjoy music.  I happen to love music.  I happen to hate cleaning.  But if I mix something I love with something I hate, usually the love wins out.

When my husband and I were first dating, I would ask him what he wanted to go and do.  His response was often the same, “I could be shoveling shit against the tide and it would be fun if I were doing it with you.”  Nothing says romance like a vision of shoveling shit with your mate.  Amazingly though, it was a sweet point that he was trying to get across.

Doing something you hate, doesn’t have to be miserable.  Add something you love into the mix to make the time go by faster.  Adding laughter to a task would also serve as a great motivator for me.  Perhaps that’s why the idea of shoveling shit with my husband sounds splendid.  I know he would have me laughing the whole time.

6.  Grab a Dr. Pepper

When all else fails, grab a soda.  Certainly not advice received from a doctor, hence my disclaimer at the beginning.

In the 1950’s, Dr. Pepper’s slogan was “the friendly Pepper-Upper”.  It certainly is friendly.  I can vouch for that.  When I drink it, I become more friendly.  A friendly Sara is a motivated Sara.  I like to drink my friendliness right into me.

So, there you have it; six ways to get motivated.  Now, in my efforts to motivate myself to clean my home, I am going to combine suggestion 2 and 5 to start making things happen over here in our home.

What gets you motivated?

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