I have found that there are things in life that I learn, and then, because I get caught up in the itty-bitty details of day-to-day life, I forget. Then I'm happily reminded of them and then life once again gets the best of me, and I forget. Back and forth and up and down it goes. This week I have been reminded, in a big way, of the amazing power of kindness.
One of the things I love to do is volunteer in my children's schools. I like being helpful and useful, I like seeing the students (the little guys are just so adorable!), I like getting to know our teachers and administrators better (they are very interesting folks and I admire their passion and dedication), and, usually, I like the camaraderie of rolling my sleeves up alongside other Moms and Dads to make a positive impact in our schools. I say 'usually' because the last several weeks have been fraught with struggle, angst, and stress. It feels like tornadoes and hurricanes have been whipping by all around me.
Now, if there's one thing no one can ever accuse me of, it's being a quitter. I've been hanging in there, alternately hopeful and discouraged, but the beginning of the week had to be an all time low. Then I happened to bump into an acquaintance who knew some of my struggles, and she very softly and quite sincerely asked how I was doing. I said I was hanging in there and she again, very softly and very sincerely, patted my arm and offered her help. Suddenly, I felt a little ray of sunshine peeking through the dark storm clouds.
As a result of that extremely short and chance encounter, I found I was actually carrying a little bit of hope in my heart all that day. As it turns out, we got a chance to speak again, and I was truly blessed to be on the receiving end of simple human kindness and a great generosity of spirit from this wonderful lady. I instantly felt lighter, literally like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and that enabled me to look at my circumstances with new eyes and a new perspective. By the next morning, I was refreshed and ready, not just to carry on, but to forge a new path, with renewed creativity and new ideas.
Kindness - simple, easy, sincere kindness - is such an incredibly powerful thing. Kindness lifts us, inspires us, energizes us, and brings such happiness to a troubled heart. It encourages us to believe in ourselves, to keep trying, and to see that things are not really as impossible as they seem. Kindness wraps itself around us like a treasured and familiar blanket, providing warmth and protection, safety and reassurance, peace and a place to rest and rejuvenate. It fosters creativity and sheds light on options that can usher in solutions, agreement, and harmony. Quite simply, kindness can sometimes feel like a miracle.
Isn't it amazing that something so potent and powerful as kindness doesn't cost anything and doesn't take a whole lot of time or energy to give? Is that why we forget about its power so easily? Or is it because it's understated and unassuming? Truly kind people don't seek or command great public attention or accolades. They don't stand and shout, "Make way for me! Look how special and wonderful I am!" Nope. Truly kind people work their magic softly, gently, and quietly. The knowledge that they tried to help and did a good thing is the only reward they seek. Perhaps that's why we so easily overlook it.
Well, having been the grateful beneficiary of an unexpected and wonderful kindness this week, I vow to keep the cycle of kindness alive and well. What we put out into the world comes back to us seven-fold, so I promise to put kindness out into the world. The more kindness I spread, the more I will receive and hopefully, I'll keep giving and receiving so much that it spills over and splashes onto everyone around me. If you join me, perhaps we can start tsunamis of kindness rolling all over the world. Now wouldn't that be an amazing thing? And isn't that a great way to repay my friend?
So here comes my rallying cry. Go forth, my friends, and practice random acts of kindness. Look for every opportunity to pass it on. Accept kindness when it's offered to you, and repay it out in triplicate, at least. For every 'Oh my God' you utter in shock or despair, say an 'Oh God, help me be kind' prayer. Seize every opportunity that comes your way to intentionally offer kindness...even to those who seem to live just to irk you. Keep it going, round and round, so that we'll not so easily overlook or forget the amazing, healing power of kindness anymore.
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Friday, May 6, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Bloom Where You're Planted
It's a chilly, rainy, dark and bleak, early Spring Monday...the kind of day that makes me want to crawl back into bed, pull the covers up over my head and hibernate until the sun comes out again. That, however, is not an option. There's a family to be cared for, chores to be done, a dog to let in and out endless times during the day, and, yes, even a blog post that needs to be written because I have neglected my blog for too many weeks already.
Aside from all the "physical" stuff on my To Do list this week, there are the emotional worries and concerns that I'm wrestling with...the psychological chores that are, unfortunately, a regular occurrence in life. Those are the chores that I really want to hide from when the urge to burrow into my bed arises. Unfortunately, when you get right down to it, while they're not explicitly written down on a list, those are the most important chores of all that I have to do. Those psychological chores carry with them the precise challenges that I need to encourage me to grow, bend, change...and learn.
Bloom where you're planted. I stumbled upon that phrase many years ago, at a time when I was going through a particularly difficult period in my life. I was whining the typical "why me" complaints, holding frequent pity parties for myself, and wearing lots of black because I was grieving all that I thought I had lost. Then out of the blue one day, I saw this phrase - Bloom Where You're Planted. It stopped me in my tracks.
I suddenly thought of beautiful Spring flowers - crocuses, daffodils, hyacinths - all waving in a warm, gentle breeze. They bloom where they're planted. They sit in the ground all winter and then manage to pull, as if by magic, all the nutrients and water out of the dirt that surrounds them (what we gardeners call "soil") to create gorgeous flowers. It made me wonder if I could do the same.
Could I bloom where I was planted? Could I, somehow, pull from the dirt that surrounded me, all that I needed to actually bloom? Could it be that I had been "planted" where I was, in the midst of all that "dirt", for a reason? The answers, of course, were: Yes, You bet, and Absolutely.
Life does get dirty now and then. We find ourselves in situations that are uncomfortable, unpleasant, and downright depressing. Some are the results and consequences of our own decisions and actions...or lack thereof. Some are thrust upon us seemingly out of nowhere. It's not very nice. It's not fun. Sometimes it positively sucks. But our job is to search for the good stuff, pull it out of all the dirt around us, and bloom...not just survive, mind you, not just grow, but bloom.
It's hard work, this blooming thing. It takes courage, strength, fortitude, energy, determination, persistence, patience, and faith - faith in life and its processes, faith in God, and, perhaps the most difficult of all, faith in ourselves and our ability to learn and grow and change. We must believe in our own inherent value and goodness and in the value and goodness of those around us, even when they're behaving like pinheads, to put it mildly. We must shift our perspective, look for new angles, different views, new avenues forward. We must be open to new and different ideas. Read. Listen. Look. Notice.
We must be willing to try and possibly, fail...and try again. Learning and changing is not always a piece of cake and we won't always get it right the first time. That's ok. Pick yourself up, brush off the dirt and try again, perhaps a little differently this time around. Just don't give up. Know that each situation holds both trials and victories. To bloom we've got to move past the trials and get to the good stuff. There are gems in all the dirt that's surrounding us. Find them, learn from them, treasure them, move forward, and keep going.
Never forget that, throughout our lives, we are all a work in progress. It ain't over till it's over and, as long as we're breathing, it ain't over. Quit whining and wishing you were in a different place. Instead, take a long and careful look at where you are and bloom where you're planted.
Aside from all the "physical" stuff on my To Do list this week, there are the emotional worries and concerns that I'm wrestling with...the psychological chores that are, unfortunately, a regular occurrence in life. Those are the chores that I really want to hide from when the urge to burrow into my bed arises. Unfortunately, when you get right down to it, while they're not explicitly written down on a list, those are the most important chores of all that I have to do. Those psychological chores carry with them the precise challenges that I need to encourage me to grow, bend, change...and learn.
Bloom where you're planted. I stumbled upon that phrase many years ago, at a time when I was going through a particularly difficult period in my life. I was whining the typical "why me" complaints, holding frequent pity parties for myself, and wearing lots of black because I was grieving all that I thought I had lost. Then out of the blue one day, I saw this phrase - Bloom Where You're Planted. It stopped me in my tracks.
I suddenly thought of beautiful Spring flowers - crocuses, daffodils, hyacinths - all waving in a warm, gentle breeze. They bloom where they're planted. They sit in the ground all winter and then manage to pull, as if by magic, all the nutrients and water out of the dirt that surrounds them (what we gardeners call "soil") to create gorgeous flowers. It made me wonder if I could do the same.
Could I bloom where I was planted? Could I, somehow, pull from the dirt that surrounded me, all that I needed to actually bloom? Could it be that I had been "planted" where I was, in the midst of all that "dirt", for a reason? The answers, of course, were: Yes, You bet, and Absolutely.
Life does get dirty now and then. We find ourselves in situations that are uncomfortable, unpleasant, and downright depressing. Some are the results and consequences of our own decisions and actions...or lack thereof. Some are thrust upon us seemingly out of nowhere. It's not very nice. It's not fun. Sometimes it positively sucks. But our job is to search for the good stuff, pull it out of all the dirt around us, and bloom...not just survive, mind you, not just grow, but bloom.
It's hard work, this blooming thing. It takes courage, strength, fortitude, energy, determination, persistence, patience, and faith - faith in life and its processes, faith in God, and, perhaps the most difficult of all, faith in ourselves and our ability to learn and grow and change. We must believe in our own inherent value and goodness and in the value and goodness of those around us, even when they're behaving like pinheads, to put it mildly. We must shift our perspective, look for new angles, different views, new avenues forward. We must be open to new and different ideas. Read. Listen. Look. Notice.
We must be willing to try and possibly, fail...and try again. Learning and changing is not always a piece of cake and we won't always get it right the first time. That's ok. Pick yourself up, brush off the dirt and try again, perhaps a little differently this time around. Just don't give up. Know that each situation holds both trials and victories. To bloom we've got to move past the trials and get to the good stuff. There are gems in all the dirt that's surrounding us. Find them, learn from them, treasure them, move forward, and keep going.
Never forget that, throughout our lives, we are all a work in progress. It ain't over till it's over and, as long as we're breathing, it ain't over. Quit whining and wishing you were in a different place. Instead, take a long and careful look at where you are and bloom where you're planted.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Death and Life
Usually, the phrase is "Life and Death", but this past month, it's really been death and life around here. We had three deaths in the family and another funeral to attend in as many weeks, which has left me feeling a little like a deer caught in the headlights. I almost don't want to answer the phone anymore.
It took a few days to get back into the swing of things and get my house back in order, and then it took a few more to drag my heart out of the pit it had fallen into, and I'm just now getting to the point of digesting all that we've been through this month.
Death surely does make one appreciate life a lot more, and it reminds us, as nothing else can, just how fragile and precious life is. But that sentiment is so hum-drum, so run-of-the-mill, and uttered so often, it can't be the only lesson here. There must be something else, something deeper and more lasting, or less easily forgotten, less easily pushed aside by our daily routines.
Perhaps it's the simple act of gathering family and those closest to us...reaffirming our ties to one another, sharing our sorrow, sharing our memories, telling and retelling our stories, laughing, crying, sitting together, being together...just being together. Maybe that's the lesson.
Perhaps our routines and commitments have taken over too much of our time. Perhaps we've forgotten to save some time to just be together and savor each other's presence. We're so busy "doing" that we forget to just "be" ... and be together. Spending time together - it sounds so simple, but the demands of life seem to make it almost impossible. We mean to write - we intend to call - we say we'll gather soon, but somehow, other stuff gets in the way.
Doing "stuff" gets us through our To Do lists, but being together does so much more. So maybe it's time to push some of the "stuff" aside and actually gather together for no particular reason, other than it's fun. Maybe we should stop waiting for an "event" and just declare one...it's Saturday so come on over! Sit down, put your feet up, and stay a while. Cut through the initial "how are you's" and get down to the really important things - talking about everything and nothing, sharing and caring, being and breathing and living together, because before we know it, too much time will pass and we may be gathering for another sad event.
It took a few days to get back into the swing of things and get my house back in order, and then it took a few more to drag my heart out of the pit it had fallen into, and I'm just now getting to the point of digesting all that we've been through this month.
Death surely does make one appreciate life a lot more, and it reminds us, as nothing else can, just how fragile and precious life is. But that sentiment is so hum-drum, so run-of-the-mill, and uttered so often, it can't be the only lesson here. There must be something else, something deeper and more lasting, or less easily forgotten, less easily pushed aside by our daily routines.
Perhaps it's the simple act of gathering family and those closest to us...reaffirming our ties to one another, sharing our sorrow, sharing our memories, telling and retelling our stories, laughing, crying, sitting together, being together...just being together. Maybe that's the lesson.
Perhaps our routines and commitments have taken over too much of our time. Perhaps we've forgotten to save some time to just be together and savor each other's presence. We're so busy "doing" that we forget to just "be" ... and be together. Spending time together - it sounds so simple, but the demands of life seem to make it almost impossible. We mean to write - we intend to call - we say we'll gather soon, but somehow, other stuff gets in the way.
Doing "stuff" gets us through our To Do lists, but being together does so much more. So maybe it's time to push some of the "stuff" aside and actually gather together for no particular reason, other than it's fun. Maybe we should stop waiting for an "event" and just declare one...it's Saturday so come on over! Sit down, put your feet up, and stay a while. Cut through the initial "how are you's" and get down to the really important things - talking about everything and nothing, sharing and caring, being and breathing and living together, because before we know it, too much time will pass and we may be gathering for another sad event.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Family
I attended a cousin's wedding a couple of weeks ago. It was out of state, requiring airplane flights, hotel stay, rental car, the whole bit. My husband and children were not able to make the trip, so at first, I wasn't going to go. But as the wedding date and RSVP date drew nearer, I felt more and more compelled to make the effort to attend - not out of familial obligation, mind you, but out of a true and deep desire to reconnect with my family. You see, I had not seen my one cousin in 15 years and I had not seen my other cousin in over 25 years. Twenty-five years! That's a lifetime!
I hemmed and hawed and, in the end, my sister (who lives in yet another state) and I left our husbands and children at home and we rendezvoused in Florida for the wedding. It was beyond wonderful to see our first cousins, to meet (for the first time) their grown children, and to be in the company of others who share my last name. How could we have let so much time pass by without getting together? How did so many years go by so quickly? Then I wondered why this event, at this point in time, was different. Why was the family pull so strong?
My Godmother once had a plaque in her kitchen that read "Family is Forever". I loved the sentiment when I read it, and I think that's part of the magic that compelled me to put my regular routines on hold to attend this wedding.
Family members are the first people we meet when we are born into this world. Our family is the group of people who knew us before we knew ourselves. They watched us grow. They grew with us and continue life's journey with us now. We learn together. We learn from each other. We celebrate birthdays, we dance at each other's weddings, we grieve and cry together at funerals, we laugh, we talk, we share.
These threads of connection never fade. They never die. Blood ties remain no matter what. No matter where we go, what we become, where we live - the ties are always there our whole life.
More than that, family is where we belong. In a way, it's a part of who we are and who we become. Blood ties make us more similar than different. Family is the whole of which we are an inextricable part. It's where we fit in no matter how "outsider-ish" we may feel. It's where we started and it's the exclusive club to which we will always belong, no matter what. Family makes one out of many.
Family holds our memories. All at once, family reaches back and carries forward. The elders hold the history, the family lore, and, hopefully, wisdom, which they pass down to the younger generations. The younger ones bear the children who are the family's future. Everyone, each family member, has a role to play, a piece of the puzzle. We share the same roots, the same grandparents, the same religion and culture, traditions, language. We even share the same facial features, eye color, hair color, physical features. We look alike. We sound alike. We move alike. We are one.
So I went to the wedding because way too many years went by without seeing my face reflected in their smiles, without hearing voices that held a quality similar to mine, without hugging those who sprang from the same roots that I did.
And what did I learn? Family truly is forever. Even though a lifetime had passed, I was welcomed with more than open arms. I was missed as I had missed them. I am as important to my cousins as they are to me. My presence filled a hole that they may not have realized was in their family quilt, just as their embraces replaced the faded patches in mine. Even when we don't see each other often, family pulls for us, wishes the best for us, wants us to realize our dreams, hopes with us, dreams with us, and sees the best in us.
Today I am back in my regular life, going through my normal routines, but I am ever so much richer and uplifted for having reconnected and experienced, once again, the love and kindness of my cousins. I am fervently hoping that I see them before another 25 years go by, but I know, no matter what, I have their love and they have mine. And what could be better than that?
I hemmed and hawed and, in the end, my sister (who lives in yet another state) and I left our husbands and children at home and we rendezvoused in Florida for the wedding. It was beyond wonderful to see our first cousins, to meet (for the first time) their grown children, and to be in the company of others who share my last name. How could we have let so much time pass by without getting together? How did so many years go by so quickly? Then I wondered why this event, at this point in time, was different. Why was the family pull so strong?
My Godmother once had a plaque in her kitchen that read "Family is Forever". I loved the sentiment when I read it, and I think that's part of the magic that compelled me to put my regular routines on hold to attend this wedding.
Family members are the first people we meet when we are born into this world. Our family is the group of people who knew us before we knew ourselves. They watched us grow. They grew with us and continue life's journey with us now. We learn together. We learn from each other. We celebrate birthdays, we dance at each other's weddings, we grieve and cry together at funerals, we laugh, we talk, we share.
These threads of connection never fade. They never die. Blood ties remain no matter what. No matter where we go, what we become, where we live - the ties are always there our whole life.
More than that, family is where we belong. In a way, it's a part of who we are and who we become. Blood ties make us more similar than different. Family is the whole of which we are an inextricable part. It's where we fit in no matter how "outsider-ish" we may feel. It's where we started and it's the exclusive club to which we will always belong, no matter what. Family makes one out of many.
Family holds our memories. All at once, family reaches back and carries forward. The elders hold the history, the family lore, and, hopefully, wisdom, which they pass down to the younger generations. The younger ones bear the children who are the family's future. Everyone, each family member, has a role to play, a piece of the puzzle. We share the same roots, the same grandparents, the same religion and culture, traditions, language. We even share the same facial features, eye color, hair color, physical features. We look alike. We sound alike. We move alike. We are one.
So I went to the wedding because way too many years went by without seeing my face reflected in their smiles, without hearing voices that held a quality similar to mine, without hugging those who sprang from the same roots that I did.
And what did I learn? Family truly is forever. Even though a lifetime had passed, I was welcomed with more than open arms. I was missed as I had missed them. I am as important to my cousins as they are to me. My presence filled a hole that they may not have realized was in their family quilt, just as their embraces replaced the faded patches in mine. Even when we don't see each other often, family pulls for us, wishes the best for us, wants us to realize our dreams, hopes with us, dreams with us, and sees the best in us.
Today I am back in my regular life, going through my normal routines, but I am ever so much richer and uplifted for having reconnected and experienced, once again, the love and kindness of my cousins. I am fervently hoping that I see them before another 25 years go by, but I know, no matter what, I have their love and they have mine. And what could be better than that?
Thursday, December 30, 2010
The Greatest Gift You Can Give
Here we are at the end of another year. The Holiday rush is winding down. Cards have been mailed, cookies have been baked and shared (and eaten!), gifts have been unwrapped, toys are being played with, and, here in the Northeast, we're digging out of the blizzard of 2010.
Christmas is a memory now, but this year has to go down as one of the best I've had in a while. We celebrated the holiday with family, as we always do, but somehow, this year held a special magic with extra doses of fun and laughter. I've spent the last few days trying to figure out what was different this year, and I think it may be that, 'round about Thanksgiving, I made a conscious decision not to stress. As the Whos down in Whoville taught the Grinch, Christmas would come whether there were boxes and bows, cards and cookies, or not. So I decided to do the best that I could do, not try to live up to some unrealistic, self-imposed expectation, and not worry about it.
As it turns out, I still managed to get all of the things done that I usually do (even if some things got done a bit later than usual) and I managed to actually enjoy it more. Just as the Whos sang on Christmas morning, even without any of the "stuff" that they usually had for Christmas, my heart sang because it was lighter. It was the best gift I've given to myself in some time, and it was a gift to those around me, as well.
Since I wasn't all tied up in knots about what did or didn't get done, I could take in all the joy that Christmas brings, but mostly, being calmer allowed me to see that the best gifts aren't just things. The best gifts are the love, patience, and understanding that we give to one another, and we bestow those gifts by giving of our time and our thoughtfulness.
It is said that actions speak louder than words, so where we put our time and attention speaks volumes about what, and who, is really important to us. Giving Christmas presents is fun, and there's nothing like watching a loved one's face light up with joy when they open a particularly special gift. Let's not forget that what makes a gift special is not the physical thing itself, but what it represents, both to the giver and the receiver. When a present is chosen with thoughtfulness and love, it shows that the giver not only understands what's important to the receiver, but that the giver is supportive and cares about the receiver's interests. It's a symbol of caring and sharing, of nurturing and love. It's a sign that the giver has spent time and emotional energy with the receiver in mind.
As we head into a new year, I'm hoping to keep that thought uppermost in my mind. I'm hoping to remember that the greatest gift I can give to anyone - friend, family member, or even stranger - is my time. I'm hoping to remember that when someone gives me their time, that I take a minute to be grateful, for that's the greatest gift someone can give to me, too.
If we can all be as diligent about giving of ourselves as we are about buying, wrapping, and exchanging Christmas presents, perhaps 2011 will be a year filled with the peace that we all crave.
Christmas is a memory now, but this year has to go down as one of the best I've had in a while. We celebrated the holiday with family, as we always do, but somehow, this year held a special magic with extra doses of fun and laughter. I've spent the last few days trying to figure out what was different this year, and I think it may be that, 'round about Thanksgiving, I made a conscious decision not to stress. As the Whos down in Whoville taught the Grinch, Christmas would come whether there were boxes and bows, cards and cookies, or not. So I decided to do the best that I could do, not try to live up to some unrealistic, self-imposed expectation, and not worry about it.
As it turns out, I still managed to get all of the things done that I usually do (even if some things got done a bit later than usual) and I managed to actually enjoy it more. Just as the Whos sang on Christmas morning, even without any of the "stuff" that they usually had for Christmas, my heart sang because it was lighter. It was the best gift I've given to myself in some time, and it was a gift to those around me, as well.
Since I wasn't all tied up in knots about what did or didn't get done, I could take in all the joy that Christmas brings, but mostly, being calmer allowed me to see that the best gifts aren't just things. The best gifts are the love, patience, and understanding that we give to one another, and we bestow those gifts by giving of our time and our thoughtfulness.
It is said that actions speak louder than words, so where we put our time and attention speaks volumes about what, and who, is really important to us. Giving Christmas presents is fun, and there's nothing like watching a loved one's face light up with joy when they open a particularly special gift. Let's not forget that what makes a gift special is not the physical thing itself, but what it represents, both to the giver and the receiver. When a present is chosen with thoughtfulness and love, it shows that the giver not only understands what's important to the receiver, but that the giver is supportive and cares about the receiver's interests. It's a symbol of caring and sharing, of nurturing and love. It's a sign that the giver has spent time and emotional energy with the receiver in mind.
As we head into a new year, I'm hoping to keep that thought uppermost in my mind. I'm hoping to remember that the greatest gift I can give to anyone - friend, family member, or even stranger - is my time. I'm hoping to remember that when someone gives me their time, that I take a minute to be grateful, for that's the greatest gift someone can give to me, too.
If we can all be as diligent about giving of ourselves as we are about buying, wrapping, and exchanging Christmas presents, perhaps 2011 will be a year filled with the peace that we all crave.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
A Plea for Peaceful Language
Anyone who has ever gone toy shopping for a child quickly discovers that there are "girl toy" aisles and "boy toy" aisles. The "girl aisles" are awash in bright pinks and pastels, offering dolls and kitchen sets, while the "boy aisles" are covered in black and camouflage colors, offering cars, trucks, and "action figures".
As the mother of two boys, I've spent many hours shaking my head in disgust as I see shelf after shelf filled with violence disguised as toys for boys. There are (turn on your best over-excited announcer voice when you read these) Awesome Smashing, Crashing Hot Wheels and Matchbox car sets, MegaMorph Transformers with Realistic Bazooka Blasters, Ultra Long Range Nerf Bombers with Ammo Boosters, and the list goes on and on. Now, for the record, none of these toy names are real - I've made them all up - but they do represent the kinds of toys our children are playing with.
I've had a tough ban on violence in our home, and I have to tell you, it's getting harder and harder to enforce as the years roll by. Why is that? It's because violence is all around us...everywhere...everyday...day in and day out, and I think we've become very blase about it. In fact, I suspect that we're not even consciously aware of most of what we say and hear.
Look at the language, the words and phrases we use everyday. We're fighting crime, fighting hunger, fighting disease, fighting for our rights, fighting against injustice, and fighting to get our economy back on track. When we're not fighting, we're battling. We all have loved ones who are battling cancer, we're battling the bulge, and battling unemployment. When we're not fighting or battling, we're in an all out war. We have the war on terrorism, the war on drugs, and we're waging two real life wars in Iraq and Afghanistan - wars that are taking the very real lives and very real limbs of our country's young men and women.
Is it any wonder that the hottest video game for children this Holiday Season is Call of Duty: Black Ops? No, I did not make that name up - it's for real. And what's very disturbing to me is that copies of this game are flying off the shelves...into our children's hands. We're perpetuating the cycle and passing our numbness onto our little ones, and that is such a frightening notion to me.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for eradicating hunger, poverty, illnesses, injustice, crime, and so on. I just think it's time to shift the way we speak and think about it to a more positive, supportive, and healing vocabulary. Fighting and battling creates hatred and enemies - us against them - without any understanding or empathy, and I think everyone loses in the end. I saw a bumper sticker a while back that said something to the effect of "War doesn't prove who's right, it just shows who's left". Amen to that.
Just think for a second: have you ever seen or heard of any Spiritual Leader or Enlightened One walking around armed to the teeth? Was the Baby Jesus laid in the manger with his beloved M-80? Did the Buddha carry a bazooka? Did Gandhi have a pistol strapped to his ankle? Did Mother Theresa minister to the poor with her trusty Smith and Wesson? No! The very thought is ludicrous.
If we are to follow in the footsteps of those we hold up as Spiritual role models, we need to begin by changing our language and the way we think about our problems. It's not really as hard as it sounds. Instead of fighting cancer, we can Race for the Cure. The same is true for any cause, whether it's medical, political, social, economic, whatever. Leave the negativity behind and move forward, towards the positive. Research and find the root causes. Provide treatment and promote healing. Explore alternatives. Be open to new ideas and ancient healing practices. Share. Talk. Listen. Understand. Learn. Try. But, for heaven's sake, please let's stop fighting all the time.
As the mother of two boys, I've spent many hours shaking my head in disgust as I see shelf after shelf filled with violence disguised as toys for boys. There are (turn on your best over-excited announcer voice when you read these) Awesome Smashing, Crashing Hot Wheels and Matchbox car sets, MegaMorph Transformers with Realistic Bazooka Blasters, Ultra Long Range Nerf Bombers with Ammo Boosters, and the list goes on and on. Now, for the record, none of these toy names are real - I've made them all up - but they do represent the kinds of toys our children are playing with.
I've had a tough ban on violence in our home, and I have to tell you, it's getting harder and harder to enforce as the years roll by. Why is that? It's because violence is all around us...everywhere...everyday...day in and day out, and I think we've become very blase about it. In fact, I suspect that we're not even consciously aware of most of what we say and hear.
Look at the language, the words and phrases we use everyday. We're fighting crime, fighting hunger, fighting disease, fighting for our rights, fighting against injustice, and fighting to get our economy back on track. When we're not fighting, we're battling. We all have loved ones who are battling cancer, we're battling the bulge, and battling unemployment. When we're not fighting or battling, we're in an all out war. We have the war on terrorism, the war on drugs, and we're waging two real life wars in Iraq and Afghanistan - wars that are taking the very real lives and very real limbs of our country's young men and women.
Is it any wonder that the hottest video game for children this Holiday Season is Call of Duty: Black Ops? No, I did not make that name up - it's for real. And what's very disturbing to me is that copies of this game are flying off the shelves...into our children's hands. We're perpetuating the cycle and passing our numbness onto our little ones, and that is such a frightening notion to me.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for eradicating hunger, poverty, illnesses, injustice, crime, and so on. I just think it's time to shift the way we speak and think about it to a more positive, supportive, and healing vocabulary. Fighting and battling creates hatred and enemies - us against them - without any understanding or empathy, and I think everyone loses in the end. I saw a bumper sticker a while back that said something to the effect of "War doesn't prove who's right, it just shows who's left". Amen to that.
Just think for a second: have you ever seen or heard of any Spiritual Leader or Enlightened One walking around armed to the teeth? Was the Baby Jesus laid in the manger with his beloved M-80? Did the Buddha carry a bazooka? Did Gandhi have a pistol strapped to his ankle? Did Mother Theresa minister to the poor with her trusty Smith and Wesson? No! The very thought is ludicrous.
If we are to follow in the footsteps of those we hold up as Spiritual role models, we need to begin by changing our language and the way we think about our problems. It's not really as hard as it sounds. Instead of fighting cancer, we can Race for the Cure. The same is true for any cause, whether it's medical, political, social, economic, whatever. Leave the negativity behind and move forward, towards the positive. Research and find the root causes. Provide treatment and promote healing. Explore alternatives. Be open to new ideas and ancient healing practices. Share. Talk. Listen. Understand. Learn. Try. But, for heaven's sake, please let's stop fighting all the time.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
A Mother's Love
I'm a full time Mom, but at one time (long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, so it seems) I worked outside the home. I had business cards with my name boldly printed on them, along with a fancy title meant to impress others and convey my importance in this world. I had succinctly composed goals and objectives. My progress was reviewed annually and my salary was adjusted commensurate to my performance. When people asked what I did, I had a great and impressive answer and it generated lots of questions and conversation. In short, I was working and I had value in the eyes of others.
Now I'm a full time Mom. I don't receive a paycheck or an electronic funds transfer once a month. I don't get personal or sick days off. I don't get paid vacation days. No company holidays either. My goals are long ranging, far reaching, and sometimes difficult to articulate. My objectives are fuzzy and can often shift from day to day or hour to hour. When people ask what I do and I answer that I'm a full time Mom, I get a rather sickly sweet smile and a nod and all conversation comes to a screeching halt. No questions...no interest...nothing.
Sometimes I press on and say that I LOVE what I do - which is the absolute truth - and I say that I work harder now than I ever did in the corporate world - which is also absolutely true. Then I get that question - you know the one - "do you think you'll ever go back to work?" as though Motherhood is a temporary blip of insanity in an otherwise sane and properly lived life. I usually say, "absolutely not", but what I REALLY want to say is something more along the lines of, "I know you think I gave up something grand and important just to wash clothes and vacuum carpets, but really, I gave up nothing and I have gained everything. And, if I spend all of my day and all of my week giving my time and energy to the corporate world, who will love my children?"
I have nothing against working Moms and Dads, and I know they love their children deeply. Some people enjoy working and they're probably happier people and are, therefore better parents because they're happy. But that's not who I am, and that's not how I feel I best express my deep, deep love for my children.
A Mother's love is indescribably deep and wide. It's unconditional, ever enduring, unending, and it has an amazing quality that makes you feel like it's a real, tangible thing that you can actually touch, while also feeling like you could never possibly hold it all in your arms at once. It feels like you are surrounded by it on the outside, and yet you hold it all inside of you, all at the same time. A Mother's love begins before the child is born and lasts forever and ever. I heard a woman once say that a Mother's love is the Mother load. Yes indeed, it is.
I would love, just once, when someone asks what I do and I tell them I'm a full time Mom, to have them smile in amazement, shake their head with wonder, and say something like, "That is such an important task and I am so impressed that you devote so much of your time and energy to your children's physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being." I am, after all, touching the future.
Now I'm a full time Mom. I don't receive a paycheck or an electronic funds transfer once a month. I don't get personal or sick days off. I don't get paid vacation days. No company holidays either. My goals are long ranging, far reaching, and sometimes difficult to articulate. My objectives are fuzzy and can often shift from day to day or hour to hour. When people ask what I do and I answer that I'm a full time Mom, I get a rather sickly sweet smile and a nod and all conversation comes to a screeching halt. No questions...no interest...nothing.
Sometimes I press on and say that I LOVE what I do - which is the absolute truth - and I say that I work harder now than I ever did in the corporate world - which is also absolutely true. Then I get that question - you know the one - "do you think you'll ever go back to work?" as though Motherhood is a temporary blip of insanity in an otherwise sane and properly lived life. I usually say, "absolutely not", but what I REALLY want to say is something more along the lines of, "I know you think I gave up something grand and important just to wash clothes and vacuum carpets, but really, I gave up nothing and I have gained everything. And, if I spend all of my day and all of my week giving my time and energy to the corporate world, who will love my children?"
I have nothing against working Moms and Dads, and I know they love their children deeply. Some people enjoy working and they're probably happier people and are, therefore better parents because they're happy. But that's not who I am, and that's not how I feel I best express my deep, deep love for my children.
A Mother's love is indescribably deep and wide. It's unconditional, ever enduring, unending, and it has an amazing quality that makes you feel like it's a real, tangible thing that you can actually touch, while also feeling like you could never possibly hold it all in your arms at once. It feels like you are surrounded by it on the outside, and yet you hold it all inside of you, all at the same time. A Mother's love begins before the child is born and lasts forever and ever. I heard a woman once say that a Mother's love is the Mother load. Yes indeed, it is.
I would love, just once, when someone asks what I do and I tell them I'm a full time Mom, to have them smile in amazement, shake their head with wonder, and say something like, "That is such an important task and I am so impressed that you devote so much of your time and energy to your children's physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being." I am, after all, touching the future.
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