Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Roots to Wings

Remember your child’s first day of Kindergarten? Perhaps you haven’t yet sent any children off on their big day and are dreading the moment when they leave your safe and comfortable nest to explore a new world. I remember the day that my daughter went off to Kindergarten. As a matter of fact, I have a picture of her first day that hangs in my bedroom. She is dressed up in her new red sweater with her little plaid skirt, sitting at her desk with her cute smile and arms folded over the tissue box she brought as part of her school supply bundle. I look at this picture and think back to all the feelings I was experiencing when my baby first started school. When we send our children to Kindergarten, they are exploring a new world, making new friends, discerning good behaviors from bad, and getting used to a new routine. Isn't this also true when a child leaves for college?

My daughter recently did that very thing. Despite the many parallels I can draw between beginning Kindergarten and beginning college, the one critical component she was missing when she was 5 was her ability to make her own decisions, and to draw on her roots, which were really just starting to be formed. In Kindergarten, the decisions are made for you. My daughter knew when she was going to go to recess and have lunch, what she was going to wear each day, when she was going to get to go home, and what her bedtime was. It was in the comfort of these seemingly small routines that stuck with her and enabled her to begin making decisions for herself.

One of my own mother’s favorite sayings is, “We give our children two things – one is roots, and other, wings.” I know now more than ever that all of the hard work we do as parents to establish good routines, good habits, and good lives allows these roots to strengthen and take hold. Difficult as it may be throughout those elementary, middle, and high school years, I’m here to tell you that it’s all worth it. We model for our children, give them strong roots, and in turn, they develop a sense of who they are, and more importantly, that they’re loved. So, fear not, dear parents. Root them in love, God, and all of the things you want them to be, and then, give them wings.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Stopping Worry In Its Tracks

While we certainly don’t have manuals when it comes to being mothers and raising children, there is one thing we all seem to have bestowed upon us when we enter into the wonderful world of motherhood, and that’s the keen ability to worry. It starts early. When we’re pregnant, we worry about whether the little someone growing inside is getting the right nutrition. We worry about how the delivery will go. Once they’re born, we begin a roller-coaster ride of worry, and while the types of things we worry about are different at each age, the worry doesn’t get any less overwhelming. Worry is like a little worm that enters your head and just keeps munching away at your thoughts, taking you one direction and then the next, calculating all of the possible things that can go wrong. While I am no stranger to worry, I’d like to share a recipe for extracting that very hungry little worm and letting the worry go.  It works for me when I find myself in a state of worry and I invite you to try it next time you are caught in this same trap:
Step 1: Acknowledge the worry. Most times when we worry, we let our rational minds go, and instead, let our irrational minds take over, sort of like a cassette tape that plays in an endless loop. Stop, and acknowledge the fact that you’re worried about something. Perhaps even write it down if you are a visual person, or say it out loud if you are an auditory person.
Step 2: Draw a line in the sand. Once we acknowledge the fact that we’re worried about something, we need to put it into perspective. Look at the big picture. Most of our worries have to do with what’s going on in the here-and-now, and we tend to extrapolate that situation out into the future, when in fact, we really have no control of the future. All you can do is focus on the present moment and draw a line between you and your worry. Make it stop right here and step over to the other side for just a moment:  the place of peace and non-worry. Now, consciously sit in this space for a few moments, knowing that the problem and worry are still there, but that they’re on the other side of the line. This step allows you to distance yourself from the worry instead of sitting in it.
Step 3: Give it to God.  This has to be a full-on effort on your part. There’s no such thing as halfway giving it up. Trust me, I’ve tried it. In order to fully release the problem to God, sometimes it takes being very demonstrative about it. Sure, you can simply pray about it, and this usually suffices for the smaller worries. But if it’s one of those big, hairy ones, try one of these actions:
1. Write down your worry on a piece of paper, and then crumple it up and give it over to God. You could place it next to your bible or a cross or perhaps even burn it to ashes.  You can also hand it over to your spouse or a friend letting them know that you have given this worry up to God.
2.  Ceremoniously wash your hands as you say out loud that you are washing your hands of this problem and the worry that goes along with it, and letting Him take control.
3.  Journal about it. This can be very therapeutic, especially if you journal as if you are writing a letter to God. Tell Him all of your issues and then let Him know that this letter serves as official notice that you are putting it into His hands.
No matter which way you hand it over to God, this next step is critical, and that is to replace your worry with love. Look at the person you’re worried about with love. See the problem through the eyes of love. Know that love is powerful and can fix everything. I don’t know that worry will ever go away when we’re moms, even when our kids are grown, out of the house, and raising their own families. It’s just a way of life when you’re a mother, but as I’m sure you’ll agree, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Getting Unstuck

Have you ever felt like you were just stuck? Perhaps a good visual is one where you are standing at the bottom of a deep well, looking way up at the sky and not knowing how to make the ascent up and out of that dark pit. Or, maybe you’re high up in a tree, “out on a limb”, not able to make your way down to stable ground. Either way, stuck is stuck. Maybe you didn’t realize you were stuck for a long time and then one day it just hit you . . . stuck in a routine, stuck in a relationship, stuck in a dead-end job, stuck in a habit that doesn’t work in your life. Or, perhaps you’ve been wallowing in your stuck-ness for awhile – uncertain of your next steps. Sometimes, it just becomes easier to stay stuck than to try and move out of it. We get stuck because we have so much coming at us at all times that rarely do we get a chance to sit, and just be.  
When we allow ourselves to just be, we are able to put the mind-chatter aside and look deeper into ourselves. It’s during these times of just sitting, and being, that we’re able to ask ourselves the important questions:  What’s working in our lives? What has become a road block? Where are we moving forward? Where are we just dragging our heels? The next question is, then what?
Well, unfortunately, many of us stay stuck. Whether it comes from fear of the unknown, complacency, fear of change, or something else, we stay stuck because it’s much easier than moving. But, when we examine the people we are when we are stuck, compared to the people we can become when we move forward, it’s easy to see which person we want to be. The recipe for getting unstuck is to change something. Get out of your routine. Try something completely out of the ordinary and out of your comfort zone. Change is all about growth and making life the way we want it to be. Plan in your mind what you are going to do that’s out of routine today or completely out of your comfort zone. Last weekend, I participated in a Gregorian Chant choral group (and I can’t sing). The next day, I followed my passion and went on a bird watching hike (something I’ve always wanted to do) and spent my time amongst experienced birders who knew every bird’s call and the name of each feathered-friend we encountered. I could have felt out of place in both situations (and I did, at first) but the newness of those adventures did more for me than maintaining a routine that wasn’t moving me forward. Try it! Next time you feel stuck, go sing in a chorus (even if you can’t sing). Sign up for a class or go to a networking group. Or, take baby steps and just take a different route into work or talk to someone you don’t know at the grocery store. As we take these steps, we begin to see that we in fact, CAN change, and we have the power to make our lives the way we want to. The challenge is taking that first step. Why not take one today?  

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

It's Like Giving Birth All Over Again

This weekend was my daughter’s 18th birthday. Our tradition is, on the night before our kids’ birthdays, to tell them the story of their birth. We begin with the events of the day that led up to my water breaking, that turned into a trip to the hospital, that resulted in contractions, some pushing, and a brand new life in our hands, along with all of the emotions that went along with that entire experience. This year was particularly poignant, not only because of the fact that Kenzie was turning 18 and was officially an “adult”, but on this very same weekend, she had moved into her residence hall and was ready to begin her first year of college.
This brought many parallels to mind as I spoke of her birth-day 18 years ago, and wrestled with my having to give birth to her all over again, this time letting her go and explore life on her own, hopefully with the good values and lessons that we tried to instill on her throughout those 18 years. I thought of the anticipation of Kenzie’s birth, much like my anticipation over her starting college. I remember 18 years ago being excited and scared all at the same time: excited for the new adventures we were about to embark on, afraid of all the unknowns. As we left for the hospital that evening 18 years ago, we felt calm and ready . . . much like we did when we loaded boxes in her car this weekend, and helped her unpack.
But on the night before her 18th birthday, as I told the story of her birth, I couldn’t help but well up with tears as those 18 years flashed before my eyes. From diaper changing to teething. Learning to walk to making new friends on the playground. Wearing a school uniform and discovering a love for learning. Trials and errors. Friendships and tears. Love and heartbreak. I still find myself in disbelief that my baby daughter is off on her own, but I am comforted in the feeling that we did the best we could with her. Our jobs as parents are to raise happy, social, straight-thinking, emotional, loving human beings. And, she is every one of those things. This new birth story is one I’m certain I’ll be telling for another 18 years.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Blessings from Heartbreak

How can something so heartbreaking be so filled with blessings? That’s the question I kept posing to myself over the course of the last week. My Grams, as we called her, my Mom’s Mom, passed away on Friday morning, August 5. I was deeply heartbroken by the fact that this icon in my life would no longer be here in physical form. Even though she lived thousands of miles away, my recent visits and phone calls have been burned in my memory and replayed more than once over the last seven days.
I was also deeply heartbroken by the fact that my Mom no longer had her Mom on this earth, and of course it made me think what it would be like to lose my own mother. I don’t even want to think about it. She has been such a constant in my life, in the lives of my own family and the family she raised. I shudder at the thought of losing her. Despite all of the sadness, a rush of abundant blessings unfolded over those days. As I write about it, I well up with tears and my heart feels like it’s going to burst. There were so many beautiful things that happened over the course of those days, and I will share the three that made a lasting impression on me.
First, Tom and I made the decision that Kenzie and I would attend the services. She is leaving for college in a week, and was so compassionate towards me about Grams’ death that I just felt that it was the right thing to do. I knew that she would be a comfort to me so I could be a comfort to my Mom. Having her there was a joy that I can’t express. To see her all grown up, interacting with my relatives, sobbing at the sight of her Great Grandma, standing at the podium and beautifully speaking the first reading at mass, and having her ask at every turn, “Are you OK?” was an incredible blessing and joy to me. To have your own daughter be your rock. It’s a turning point in the raising of children. It’s when you suddenly realize that you’ve done a good job, and that they’ll be good contributors in the world. I was so proud. 
Second, I was asked to deliver the Eulogy at my Grams’ mass. While speaking in front of groups is something I do regularly, ensuring that I said just the right thing weighed heavily on me. After the sorrow of seeing my Grams in her open casket during the memorial the evening before, I felt that the mass, and my eulogy, would be a time to send her off and to comfort all those who remained here. Seeing her made it clear in my mind that this was just her shell while she was here on earth, and her beautiful soul was already with our Lord. This gave me amazing strength as I walked up to the podium to remind my relatives, and friends of Grams what an icon she was, and how we will each remember her in our own special ways. What an honor and blessing it was to be able to do that for her. I was humbled and felt so at peace.
Third, I felt that despite the reason for Kenzie and I being in Buffalo those three days, it was such a wonderful time for me to connect and reconnect with family members and friends of the family. The connection was an overpowering feeling, and I believe that it was because our dear Grams was smiling at us from above, looking at the family she had been matriarch to, and she was happy. On the way home to Denver, Kenzie and I sat next to a young man who we ended up talking to the entire flight. He runs a Christian-based company out of Colorado Springs that goes around to college campuses and poses questions, engages them in conversations, and provides uplifting messages about life and God. What a perfect person to be sitting next to! One of his traveling companions, towards the end of the flight, asked him how he got so lucky to sit by us . . . as he could see how engaged we were in our discussion. He responded by saying, “I’m not really sure, but I just feel so blessed right now.” So did I.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Letting Go of That 7-Letter Word

I admit it. I'm a control freak. That 7-letter word follows me around as I move through my work day, interact with my husband and children, and go through my life. I know that the more I try to control a situation, the less control I actually have, but I still try. I also know that God moves more freely in my life when I give up control, but that doesn't always stop me, either.

So I decided to write on this topic after my day yesterday, when I was presented with three "cases" for letting go of control. I really didn't realize that each of these things were related to control until I tied them together just before drifting off to sleep last night. Maybe someone is trying to tell me something.

First, I was reading the morning paper and came across an article about how people view their finances. The article said that many people live a life thinking that "life is hard and you have to work hard for every little morsel you might get out of it." That quote stopped me in my tracks right after reading it, because I thought not only about how hard I work in my business to make things happen, but on the flip side, how many good things have come into my life with seemingly no work at all. That is, when I consciously "let go and let God" things come into my life with a greater ease, a little more magic and surprise, and a lot less control. This sort of set the tone for the day.

Later in the day, I read a story about a man I really admire, Archbishop Charles Chaput. He has been serving the Catholic Church in Denver for 14 years and is truly an inspirational leader. He received a phone call in July and was asked, on behalf of the pope, if he'd accept the position of Archbishop in Philidelphia, a city undergoing a great deal of turmoil with their recent Archbishop. Without doubt, a very difficult situation to walk into, yet without hesitation, he said yes. Now, would I do that, I thought? Never. I'd never say yes right away to something that had such great implications to my current life and lifestyle without giving it a great deal of thought and consideration. I'd need to be in complete control of that situation before giving my answer. When asked how he could make such a life-changing decision like that in a split second he said, ". . . I am a man of obedience and I know - with joy and peace - what wonderful accomplishments happen when people are obedient . . . you say yes without calculating its implications for yourself." Whoa. Now I'm no archbishop, but I thought - how wonderful it would be to just say "yes" with that much faith.

Later on in the evening as I was winding down the day, I watched a new TV program called "Name Change". The show takes a famous person, in this case, comedian Kathy Griffin, and has her trade lives with a not-so-famous person with the same name. The not-so-famous Kathy Griffin had to live the famous Kathy's life, including appearing on a TV talk show and delivering a 5-minute stand-up comedy routine. While the not-so-famous Kathy was a professional business woman, poised, and well-spoken, she was scared out of her mind to deliver the stand-up routine. She was definitely out of her comfort zone, and she broke down from anxiety before the show started. In the final moments before her routine, she pulled herself together, got on stage, and ended up delivering a routine that invoked laughs from the audience. It was a huge accomplishment for her personally, because having to step out of her "control-zone" was the most liberating thing she had done for herself in years.

Aren't these examples exactly the way we should think about living our lives? While most of the time I'd like to be completely in control of a situation, perhaps next time I'll think about the times that things just magically happen in my life when I let go, or the times when I should just say "yes" without thinking, or the times when I need to step out of my comfort zone and just go for it. What would life be like, then? Out of control? Maybe. But perhaps more likely, it would be a life worth living.


Sunday, July 24, 2011

A New Look At Gratitude

What if, when you wake up tomorrow, the only things that remain in your life are those things for which you were grateful today?

This was a question posed on a radio station the other morning, and it stopped me cold. While I believe I'm a grateful person for the most part, this question posed a more fervent and immediate call-to-action for me. I try to "count my blessings" and be grateful for what I have on a regular basis, either before I drift off to sleep, or throughout my day as I encounter the wonderful things God has placed on my path. But, am I remembering to be thankful and grateful for everything? Even the little things that seem to annoy me sometimes, but later, remind me that I'm not perfect and perhaps that person or situation in my life is trying to teach me something? Now, I'm starting to think about gratitude in a brand new way. I'm not just grateful for the things I love, but also for those things that I struggle with, because this is what makes life worth living. We can't possibly feel joy without knowing sorrow, health without experiencing illness, security without knowing uncertainty. So, the next time you count your blessings, count them all . . . and wake up tomorrow morning to live your beautiful, not-so-perfect, wonderful life.