I know I’m not the only one who sometimes imagines how I would respond if I could have a “do over”. I stew about past mistakes and think about what it would be like to have a fresh start. It can be draining.
Sometimes we whine about fairly inconsequential things. For example (and I may or may not have said any of these things, okay?):
“If I had it to do over again, I think I’d have … Continue reading How would you finish this sentence?
I spent what seemed like a year sharing a ride to the office with a very extroverted coworker awhile back.
Understand, even after several cups of coffee, I’m still not – shall we say – “bubbly” first thing in the morning.
As soon as I got in the car with him, he was “on”. Hoping he would take a hint, I remember saying, “Gee, Larry*, you’re kind of a morning person, aren’t you?” His response: Continue reading On a scale of “1 to Larry”
These are things I ask myself: Why does a woman long for motherhood? Just what is the irresistible draw? Is it the desire to bring a child into the security of a warm circle of love? The particular mix of hormones brought on by the passage of a certain number of birthdays? Acquiescence to relentless pressure from family and friends? An unquenchable desire to love and be loved in a wholly unique way?
Perhaps it’s a combination of all these. Whatever the answer, if God should allow her that privilege, there are a few things she should know: Continue reading The Exquisite Ache of Mothering
In the last two weeks, two of my closest family members have faced health crises that have sent me into an emotional tailspin. I’ve defaulted to my specialty – worry – and it has not served me well. Can you relate?
I wake up again and again in the night, my mind a dark labyrinth of thoughts spinning and clashing out of control. Fear lurks like a thick fog over my bed. Each time, I pray: for a positive outcome to whatever medical procedure looms next, for complete healing of mind and body, for confidence and courage. Then I find soft comfort as I drift back to sleep, only to wake again a short time later, my mind in overdrive once more. Continue reading This package is not for you
If you know, love – or are – a “sheepdog”, you will appreciate the following perspective, especially in light of recent events in Boston.
I’ve heard this idea attributed to various sources and I’ve seen it adapted several different ways, depending on the audience. But I particularly like this version my brother shared with me some years ago, taken from a book by Lt. Col. (Retired) Dave Grossman, Ranger, Ph.D., Author of On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill. Continue reading Please don’t kick the sheepdog
As I continue my focus on the word “harmony” in 2013, I’ve been thinking about behaviors that look like harmony-producers but in reality are harmony-busters. They seem innocuous enough, perhaps even helpful. But over time, they can do more harm than good.
Here are a few I’ve observed (and there are many more). Maybe you can add some others: Continue reading Four Ways to (Politely) Pummel Harmony
If you knew that you were the inspiration for something I wrote, would you be flattered – or flustered? Would you be interested to know how I depicted you and why? Or would you want to get the heck out of here NOW? Continue reading Have I Written About You?
I know people who would be happy with that pronouncement. People who really don’t want too much interference from an all-knowing, all-powerful Deity who might have some different ideas about what constitutes a meaningful life.
With those marching orders, they could define “pretty great” for themselves, and the ambiguity of “old” would suit them just fine. Doing their best could mean pursuing happiness on their own terms, finding their own pleasure. That could work out really well.
Until it doesn’t. Continue reading If God said this to you, would it be enough?
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The first clue is the muttering and swearing. It’s 6:30 in the morning and the train will be arriving shortly. No one has an extra few minutes; we’re all on autopilot, just trying to get to work as painlessly as possible.
The man ahead of me in line at the parking fee kiosk is now pounding the side of the machine and angrily accusing the Village officials who maintain the parking facility of everything from laziness to greed to criminal corruption.
My offer of a different dollar bill – maybe his was too wrinkled … or not wrinkled enough? – doesn’t even phase him.
“It’s not taking dollar bills. The *^$#@ machine is broken and they don’t care ‘cause if you don’t pay the fee, you’re going to get a ticket for $55 and that’s more money in their pockets. Bunch of bums.” Continue reading How NOT to Achieve Harmony
A week or so ago, I ambled through a lovely antique store in SW Florida. Everything was organized and displayed with genuine care, not at all jumbled and random as many such places can be. It felt like the shop owner had bestowed a kind of gentle honor on all these vestiges of other people’s lives.
I was drawn to a basket of old pictures and postcards. It was enchanting . . . but a little sad. These precious (at one time) family mementos were now items of little value beyond curiosity and a bit of speculation.
Postcards from the early 1900s conveyed greetings from far flung destinations like New York City, Sweden, and Holland (not the one in Michigan) to loved ones back home in small towns . . . news of stagecoaches, difficult people, and homesickness all written in careful script.
One dear lady worried in her postcard about three one dollar bills she had misplaced before she left and gave instructions for what to do with the money if it was found. Continue reading This is not a picture of my sister and me
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