Rescue Me

I love unconditionally and without limits. It's both a blessing and curse, if you want to know the truth.

Over the past several months I've become more and more passionate about dog rescue; so many beautiful animals in need of foster and forever homes that it breaks my heart.

Sometimes I wonder how these throw away dogs came to be my focus in the midst of what has been a chaotic two and a half years, and it occurs to me that they, too, love unconditionally and without limits despite being given up on, and perhaps I somehow see reflected in them the qualities I'd like to see in myself: the ability to tackle whatever comes their way with strength, dignity and courage; an amazing desire to overcome any obstacle; and, most importantly, an understanding that hope dies last.

Upon further consideration, I am not so sure it's about me rescuing them. I think, instead, it's they who rescue me.

I Am Just Me

My eldest offspring recently completed a beautiful project for her language arts class in which her teacher gave her sentence starters and she had to write a poem around them. The students had to create a photostory with pictures and music to match the poetry.

Having had a rough day today that has called into question every fiber of my strength, courage and pain tolerance, I thought, perhaps, a little reflection was in order, so figured I'd try my hand at the poetry piece of a middle school project.

I am just me.

I wonder why people don't realize that the greatest rewards come from building up other people rather than tearing them down.

I hear the deafening silence inside the castle walls and face the frustration of conversations not yet begun and those left unfinished.

I see far beyond right and wrong.

I want to walk off into the sunset and simply disappear.

I am just me.

I pretend that I'm unflappable today, yet the truth is that I've never been more afraid than I am at this exact moment.

I feel hopeful when I hear about random acts of kindness, for it makes me believe that people are, in fact, inherently good.

I touch my cheek and realize that a tiny tepid tear has escaped from my otherwise icy cold interior.

I worry that I could have, should have, done better, tried harder, been something or someone I simply didn't know how to be.

I cry when I grieve the deaths of the most intimate and intangible things.

I am just me.

I understand that my body doesn't always play nicely and therefore managing pain is part of who I am, and that all of the woulda shoulda coulda if onlys in the world will never change that.

I say that I want to live without regret.

I dream of being content.

I try to live a principled life and to encourage others to do the same.

I hope I can fly... in a thousand different ways.

I am just me.

Life is Too Short...

... to be anything but happy.

I recently ventured out of my kingdom with the little humans that occupy my world. The time we spent together was priceless, and I learned a thing or two about myself along the way. It was nothing earth shattering, nothing I didn't already know logically, but, rather, things I needed to know experientially, allowing me to answer some questions that had been swirling around in my pea sized brain.

At the end of our journey, I was reminded of the following quote that has been making its way around the intrawebz. I'm not much of a re-poster but this one hit home.

An old man once said, "There comes a time in your life, when you'll walk away from all the drama and people who created it. You'll surround yourself with people who make you laugh. Forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living."

Indeed.

Mother's Day

My Mother's Day was spent hiking by a stunning waterfall, soaking in the sunshine and giggling with my children.

As I sat on the deck that evening sipping a glass of wine and reflecting on a perfect day, it dawned on me that as a mother, sometimes the days are long, but, ultimately, the years are short.

A Lovely Little List...

It's a funny thing when you've so much to say that you don't even know where to start, so I figured some random thoughts might be in order.

1. I love lists. To do lists, itemized lists, shopping lists...

2. I used to never cry. Now I find I cry easily. I can't decide if this is a bad thing (have I become overly emotional?) or a good one (do I feel more passionately now?). I'm leaning towards good, though it is mildly inconvenient.

3. It's entirely possible to feel utterly alone while surrounded by other people.

4. I am just me. And I am just me to you, no matter who you are. If you are the love of my life, I am just me. If you are a stranger on the street, I am just me. If you are my co-worker, my child's teacher, my neighbor, my client... I am just me. Why is it that so many people behave differently depending upon their audience or circumstances? The world would be a better place if we could all remember that it's the people we hold dearest that we need to treat the best and then use that as a model for how to behave amongst the rest of the people we encounter.

5. Good kids are the result of good parenting. "Luck" has little to do with it.

6. There is no item number six.

7. My animals bring me joy and teach me about unconditional love. I can't imagine a home or a life without them.

8. A long time ago I was told to "never go to bed angry". It's good advice.

9. In little things, there is happiness. The problem is that most people are too caught up in themselves or in their daily grind or maybe even their half-empty negativity to recognize all the little things. I'm grateful that I'm not "most people". Today I find happiness in snuggles from Exhibit C, the fact that Exhibit B played capture the flag at school, Exhibit A's prospects at auditions tomorrow, and having found a hauntingly beautiful new song to listen to when the mood strikes.

10. The world is best viewed from atop a bicycle... for we travel at the perfect pace to not only reach our destinations but to enjoy the scenery along the way. I suppose this works, metaphorically, for a few other things but I won't point that out. Surely you know that already... :)

Surrender

So I used the word "surrender" in another place in which I like to wax poetic from time to time.

The context was that I was going to surrender to sleep, and I meant it, but, because it is, perhaps, entirely possible that some of the readers there know me well enough to know there's often more to my writing than meets the eye, I realized that for many who read it, the word surrender seemed self-defeating and therefore out of character for me. It summoned up some reactions I'd not anticipated.

Sometimes, when we've worked so hard at something, focused so much, strived for an unattainable goal, tried to force a puzzle piece, hoped with every fiber of our beings, bargained with ourselves and/or him or her or them, simply done all we can do, there comes a time when we must surrender in order to allow something better to take hold. Sometimes, the courage to surrender is far greater than the courage to keep pushing, and often there are missed opportunities simply because we fail to surrender the comfort of what is known for the challenge of what is not.

Even in the most trying times I've found that understanding this, learning this, owning this, living this, provides an unparalleled sense of peace that resides deep within us, a reminder that sometimes, freeing ourselves through the act of surrender is, indeed, a reflection of our strength, self-awareness, and ability to persevere.

Etch-A-Sketch

I want to be more like an Etch-A-Sketch, I think, for an Etch-A-Sketch keeps no record of wrongs.

It's clear to all who know me well that only value-added relationships are welcome in my kingdom, and I certainly don't believe that "forgive and forget" is always feasible, or even desirable. Etch-a-Sketchiness is not so much about the aftermath of an egregious breach of trust, rather, it's about the ability to overlook some of the small things when it's really the big picture that matters; to not hold a grudge or keep a mental score when it's possible to shake out the mistakes and start again with a freshly cleaned screen.

Further, an Etch-a-Sketch reminds me that when one path ends, I must travel back the way I came or forge ahead in a newly created direction, I must find a way or make one.