How much is enough?

Is it just me? 

Or does anybody else ever feel like you're not doing enough?

Not doing THIS enough and not doing THAT enough...?

Other people have expectations of us.

Social media sets up unrealistic standards.

It can be easy to feel like I should be doing more.

I should do this or that more often.

More frequently.

More regularly. 

More consistently.

Or I should care more.

I should be more available.

I should be better at this...

(And yes, that's a whole lot of should's but that's a subject for another time.)

What a set-up for discouragement!

What a load of guilt can get dumped on us!

...

But you know what?

We simply cannot do it all!

Certainly not all of the things that everybody wants us to do - and not even everything that we might think we ought to do.

...

One of the best things I've ever done is to stop and ask:

How much is enough?

How much should I be doing really?

What is realistic?

What is healthy?

Reasonable?

What lines up with who I am?

With the kind of person I want to be, but also with my priorities and responsibilities...

...

It's tough to be objective about whether we are doing enough - especially when other people's expectations are far different from ours.  Sometimes we have to compromise and sometimes we must experiment to see what will actually work.

One of my ongoing examples is writing.

I can easily feel like I'm not writing enough.

Oh, dear; am I writing enough?

Perhaps the more important question is:

How much is enough?

How often is appropriate?

How MUCH should I do each time?

(How many words, how many projects, how many hours...?)

How in the world

will I know if I'm doing enough

if I don't have a clue

how much I should be doing?!?

I’m happy to report that this process is helping - with my writing, with relationships, with chores, with outside commitments...

Now when I begin to feel like I'm not doing enough I can pause and think about my answers to that key question.  I can much more objectively see that "Yes, I am doing enough at this moment" or maybe admit "Oops; it is true that I need to do that one more time this week."

It was no fun to be stuck in subjectivity and always feeling like I wasn't doing enough. 

Or wasn't doing something OFTEN enough.

Or LONG enough.

Or whatever...

It feels so much more reasonable and healthy to be able to take a look at my goals and at the reality and to see whether adjustments need to be made to my schedule.  I suppose it is a type of self-accountability.

This is a tool to become a better person.

A dependable worker

A faithful friend

More consistent

More reasonable

More balanced

And definitely a healthier person

More satisfied and contented

It feels good to be consistently doing the things that are important.

I like myself a whole lot better... 

Why I love this place

I sure do love this place. 
This town, this neighborhood...
You ask why?
Lots of reasons...

• The Good Beans Cafe
• Art - so much art in this town, so many places to find art
• Music - all kinds of venues
• Races and festivals
• Diversity 
• History
• Walkability
• Bike-ability: 17 miles of bike trails along the river
  
  

But these are not why we came.  They are not why we moved to Flint. We didn't even know about most of these until we got here.  

We came to work with Internationals but we quickly found other reasons to stay.

I continue to be amazed by this place but it really does come down to the people. Sure enough. There is much to love about this town, but it is the people who make me feel at home here. 

Internationals:  
We have met students from 30 countries and we love hanging out with them.

Volunteers:  
Before we even moved here, the people we work with made us want to be part of this place.

Neighbors:  
What an amazing bunch of people.  They have welcomed us with open arms. I am already a better person for having known them. We are so grateful for our neighbors.

Our kids and grands:
Can't forget them. They were not the reason we came, but it sure doesn't hurt to have some of our family nearby.

Yep, I sure do love this place!
And yes, there are many reasons!

Our life is frittered away by detail.

Simplicity,

simplicity,

simplicity!

-- Henry David Thoreau, Walden

The possession trap

Many of our friends have been hearing me (us) talk for the last eight years about our downsizing journey.  And what a journey it has been!  A huge process.  

It took time. 

It took energy and great effort.  

It took diligence and determination.

It took sacrifice.

There were lots of starts and stops.

Two steps forward and three steps back.

Slow progress

Baby steps

And we’re still not done - nor will we be.  

It’s all about phases.  

What works for this phase?

What is needed for this season of life?

We finished many of those phases and have started new ones.

We moved into smaller spaces and then even smaller.

After we sold the tree farm, we rented a small storage unit to keep selected things - not knowing what we might need or want in the future.  At that time we had no idea whether we might ever own property again or where we might end up.

...

And now here we are.

We did decide to settle down again in one spot.

We did buy another house.

And we are happy for the things that we kept.  

Well, MOST of them. ... Okay; I admit that there are still lots of things to get rid of - but they are mostly in the form of boxes that I must still sort through.  In terms of furnishings, we are pretty happy about what we kept.

In fact, I cannot count the times when we’ve shaken our heads in wonderment about how well things fit in to our new circumstances.  Over and over we marvel about something - like that cabinet Bob built when we were first married.  It was custom-designed to fill a specific gap in the old kitchen in Grandpa Frank’s farmhouse that we rented that year.  We built our own house a year later and that cupboard served us well until Bob built the regular kitchen cabinets into that huge kitchen.  A few years later it became a changing table in the nursery.  I think it became an office cabinet for a few years and I’ve lost track of what else.  …  Well, we kept that cabinet and it is once again a much-needed kitchen cabinet filling an important gap.

So many other versatile pieces have ended up being “just right” in the new/old place.  Mostly other cabinets that Bob has built through the years.  

In the early years he built me a beautiful lighted curio cabinet with glass doors.  A couple times in our moves to smaller places, it served other purposes as well - mostly for books as I recall. 

There was the era of taking down old barns and reclaiming the wood for other purposes - like tables, shelves, cabinets and even cabins.  After careful calculations, he used some of that barn wood to build a cabinet the perfect size and shape for our cherished big brown dishes.  

He really did build many, many different cabinets.   And no, we didn’t keep ALL of them. Our daughters are now using several of them.  

At any rate, as we have settled in and set up housekeeping once again, we have been amazed at how few things we need to purchase.  Basically just something to sit on - a love seat and matching chair.  And we did not mind - because I don’t think we had ever purchased new furniture before - in our entire lives!  We had always been blessed with hand-me-downs which served us well through foster kids and decades of youth parties.  We were grateful for every couch and chair that was given to us through the years and we pretty much wore them into the ground - so even if we hadn’t downsized them, it would have been time to replace them anyway. 

And, speaking of something to sit on...  
We did keep the rocking chair my mom rocked me in and later I rocked my daughters and eventually my grand-kids.  I am so glad that it survived the downsizing.

...

Sure enough; here we are.

Settling in again and putting down roots.
We love our old house in the city.

This morning I posted a lovely picture from our porch on Facebook.  
A friend posted this comment:  

"So tell me...
"What’s it like to get rid of all your clutter/stuff, travel and then settle back down?
"Have you managed to not fall into the "possession trap" again?"

That’s a fair question.

In fact, it is a great question.

My first response was that feeling of gratitude as I suddenly remembered how many of those things have worked out so well.  

And then lots of thoughts and feelings began scampering through my head. 

And then I thought maybe I would write about it.  

So I did.
And you've just read my answer. 
Well, part of it...
Yes, we have managed very well - maybe better than we might have guessed.

We also realize that we have changed.  We now appreciate simplicity so much more and we are committed to keeping our lives and our house free from clutter.

But that's another story...
Stay tuned.

Amazing Day #17: Positivity

She has lost much.

She set aside her career plans to serve others - becoming instant mom to two young boys.  Oh, the stories she can tell.

...

She lost her husband and became a widow.
She grieved her loss and figured out how to put one foot in front of the other.
She somehow adjusted to her new reality and learned how to pump gas and gradually figured out how to deal with the rest of it.

...


She gave up her home that she loved so much.
She lost her ministry that she was so passionate about and eventually discovered another.
She let go of her standing in her beloved community and moved into another.

...

She lived through the irony of losing it all again - and she survived.
Once again, she grieved the loss and eventually adjusted to the new reality

...
She lost her independence inch by inch along with energy and pep and health - one malady at a time.
She let go of her house - once again.
She gave away the tools of her passion - namely her baking equipment and enough dishes to feed an army or at least a crew of silo-fillers.
She traded a houseful of large rooms for one small room - losing her ability to "entertain" guests.

...

Eventually she traded that small room for an even smaller one.
She lost her privacy and another batch of her independence.
She had to let go of having food cooked the way she liked it - again and again.

...

With each loss, she adjusted.
She has chosen to accept each new reality and to celebrate the good parts of it.

That's what I call a positive example.
Amazing even.

...

Thanks, Mom.

Good friend

Dear friend,

I don’t think that I’ve ever called you my best friend.

I guess somehow that would have seemed presumptuous.

Oh, you were a good friend and I've always liked you a lot, but our journeys converged for only a brief time.  I learned so much from you during those few short years we were in close proximity. I wish I had taken better notes.

When distance again separated us, I realized a bit more about what a treasure you are. I made conscious choices to reconnect from time to time - maybe even to the point of intruding on your schedule.  Oops.  But you were always gracious and welcoming.

And then there was the most recent reconnect - the one that neither one of us would have chosen.  Well, at least we wouldn't have chosen the reason. That big new thing we had in common that once again brought us together.  The dreaded disease and everything involved. The testing and the treatment. The waiting and the wondering. The fears and the feelings. The seriousness and the sadness.  

I began the cancer journey sooner than you but you passed me up - not only in the physical and medical complexities and milestones, but also in your ability to find life lessons in the midst of difficulty. And to be so grace-filled. And so positive. 

I cherished this opportunity for closer connection again even though it came through an unpleasant reason. I was smart enough to take advantage of opportunities for conversation but I wanted to be careful not to steal too many spoonfuls of your time and energy.  Yes, there was more I could have gleaned from you, but so many others in closer circles needed you even more.  And so I continued to cherish what I could gain whether in your short notes as you had the strength or in reading the updates from you and your family. 

...

As I look back over the different phases of our connection, I celebrate you and the things i've learned from you. 

During our shared months of pregnancy and young motherhood, I learned about patience and serenity from your example. Oh, my. Not sure I’ve ever known anyone who displayed such calm. How wonderful for me to be around that attitude when I was just beginning my parenting journey!

During the middle years of our long-distance friendship, I still gleaned valuable lessons - about priorities and planning ahead, about hospitality and serving, and about treating people with respect and dignity.

During these most recent years of our cancer journeys, I continue to learn.  You've always been an example to me but I have more recently realized what a valuable role model and mentor you have become for me through the years even at a distance.

I still have much to learn…

About being courageous

About taking responsibility

About loving people

About serving others

About being a friend

About standing for right but doing it with grace 

About finding the positive side of tough stuff that comes my way

About making the most of my moments

About letting peace rule my heart

About seeking wisdom

About compassion

I am sad that I can longer ask your advice.

I have already been missing you.

...

Good friends, best friends...

Such interesting terms.

As I said before I do not presume to claim best friend status with you but... 

You are definitely one of the BEST people I’ve ever known. 

And you have been my friend.

A good one.

The best.

And for that I am so very grateful.

Thank you.

The gift of calm

Dear friend,

I’m thinking of you today and decided to tell you so.

Your friendship has been one of the riches of my life.

You have been good to me but also good for me.

I have learned much from you.

One thing that stands out to me is your calm.
Yes, I know that “calm” is usually an adjective, but it can also be a noun. I checked.

• Freedom from motion or disturbance
• Stillness
• Freedom from agitation
• Tranquility
• Serenity

I need calm. We all do.

Much of what I have learned and am learning about serenity comes from your example.

I am so grateful.

Settling in - it's time

In the couple weeks since we returned from the tropics we have survived an awful stomach bug and an ice storm - both while camping in our little RV. We have also enjoyed reconnecting with all of our kids and both of our moms.

And now we are moving into a new apartment. That's right; after being nomads for a couple years, we have signed a lease. We are making a commitment to stay in one place for awhile.

Why?

Because it's time.

It’s time.

Time to settle down for awhile.

It’s time to settle in and stay put for a season - for a year at least. 

Time to enjoy the four seasons. I’ve missed them and it’s time.

It’s even time to hibernate through a winter after being snow birds for four years. 

It’s time to unpack.

Time to gather all of our stuff in one place so we can finally finish the sorting and organizing and down-sizing. We began the process nearly five years ago and we have made some amazing progress, but still there is to much to deal with.

After living in the big house for 40 years where we had 2800 sq. ft. of space AND several out buildings we ended up living in a 28-foot long RV - with the rest of our stuff crammed into a 10x20 storage unit.

When we made that tumultuous move out of the big house, we had run out of time and energy. Rather than finishing the down-sizing process, too many things got stuffed into bins and boxes and got hauled to one shed and another and then the basement at the log cabin before landing in the storage unit.

It’s time to finish that process. To wrap it up. To go through those bins and boxes and to get rid of more stuff. To let go of the stuff that we don’t need and that holds no real value for us. 

It’s time to stop shuffling and shuttling boxes here and there. It’s time to open them up and really deal with the stuff. It’s time to pick up an item and actually make a decision about it  - and then another. Hopefully it’s time to realize that the entire contents of some boxes can go - to a new home or to the trash - with simply a farewell wave from me. Oh, wouldn’t that be nice?!?

…

It’s also time to be near the grandkids and to be available to babysit on the spur of the moment or to pick them up from school or daycare when needed.

...

Two of our original reasons to down-size and sell the farm were so that we could be free to be near our grandkids and so that we could travel and explore a bit before deciding whether and where we might want to settle down. We have done both - not enough time being near our grandkids yet but more than enough exploring for now. So it’s time.

…

And it’s the right place. We are just a few minutes from two of them and less than two hours from the other. We can get there easily.

There are lots of other reasons why this is the right place for this time - some of which we are only beginning to realize.

But it’s time and we are settling in with big sighs of satisfaction and contentment.

High Hopes

It is easy for me to have high hopes for myself. 

Noble, lofty expectations. 

And then to not fulfill them.

"Yes, I think I will do this."

"Hey, I’m going to write about that."

"Maybe I could become more this or that or the other thing."

But then I don’t always follow through.

I might start but never quite finish.

High hopes often fizzle.

Great expectations and good intentions don’t always end up as awesome accomplishments.

…

I want to be a prolific writer, but sometimes the words I crank out are anything but creative so they never get published.

I want to live a life of gratitude, but I hear myself griping about the mosquitos and whining about the heat.

I want to be a voice of grace, but I catch myself saying things that aren't so gracious.

I want to cultivate a calm and quiet spirit, but sometimes I still tend to get reactionary.

I want to celebrate the opportunity to live in a different culture, but some days I stay inside my walls where I don’t have to work so hard to remember how to communicate  and conjugate in a foreign language.

I want to post glowing reports about this place, but some days everything just seems ordinary - or maybe even downright difficult.

I want to make the most of every single opportunity that comes with living on a tropical island, but lots of times I run out of energy before the chores are done.

...

When I fail to fulfill my own high hopes, I can be tempted to feel sad about it.

But I don’t need to feel discouraged or defeated. 

Because, you see, I am not required to wring every ounce of specialness from every minute.

It is enough… No, it is more than enough that I am aware of my blessings.
That I am grateful in little ways. 

Quiet ways.

That I am indeed enjoying the minutes here and cherishing lots of the many opportunities.

It is wonderful to lift my gaze an inch or two from my computer screen and breathe in the beauty of the palm trees surrounding our little second-story hide-away.

How awesome to have become accustomed to the sound of the crashing waves. At times we pause to listen and comment about the ocean being calm today. Or being louder and wilder than usual.

And speaking of loud, it is fun to stop and notice, “Hey, I know that song. I recognize it from somewhere. … Oh, yah, it's from last night and every night last week.”

It is even kinda’ fun when we happen to be in town in the evening and can’t hear each other in conversation because the music is so loud.

So many sounds.

It might be silly, but I think it’s cool that I recognize the sounds of the various four-wheelers coming down our street. Here comes Ralph, our landlord. That sounds like Joe, our Quebec-y neighbor who speaks English. Joe is our hero. Our helper when we desperately need to communicate with our French landlords.

I feel joy when I am in town and see a face light up in recognition. That kinda’ melts my heart. When we step into “Supermercado Numero Uno” and beautiful Luci flashes her million-dollar smile at me from behind the cash register. Or when Michel calls out to me along the beach before I’ve noticed him. It is extra cool when “my student” calls me “mi amor” - as if I’m special. Makes me feel like I belong. 

Another moment of belonging comes when the lady on the vegetable truck remembers that we love green beans and has set some aside for me - or that I want pepinos pequenos. Yes, I like my cucumbers to be smallish and thin rather than big and fat and seedy.  And it makes me chuckle when Gri-Gri smiles and greets me (actually SMILES) after so many days of me greeting her first and taking time to ask how she’s doing. It’s confusing but endearing when Antonio, the night watchman at the end of our street, launches into some story of which I grasp only a snippet.

It is fun and funny to hear the lilting French language wafting from the next-door windows on all sides. I love to hear it but shake my head because I understand almost none of it. Only occasionally do we hear American English from the house behind us or maybe in the store.

It gets really exciting when I finally find sponges at the grocery store after looking for them for weeks. AND bananas!!! I guess we’ve adjusted to the disappointment that bananas are so rarely available here in town so when we find some, it is cause for great joy. And these are those yummy Dominican bananas - so much better than the ones we get in the U.S.

It feels familiar now to stop at the empanada stand and pick up some chicken and vegetable empanadas for supper. And maybe some ham and cheese ones for tomorrow’s breakfast.

When I’m searching for needed supplies, it's fun to feel like I know my way around the store - and maybe around the language as well.

…

But here’s the thing.

I don’t have to fulfill all of my dreams.

I don’t necessarily need to live up to my greatest expectations.

I am a dreamer and I love that about myself.

I have often said that I would be happy if I accomplish even a small percentage of my hopes and dreams. That’s a luxury you can afford when you have so many of them.

So today I refuse to feel badly about the things I didn’t get done.

The blog posts I haven’t written yet.

The goals I have not fulfilled.

The great idea that didn’t happen because I ran out of energy.

There are so, so many choices. 

So many opportunities to celebrate this amazing place.

This cool little town.

These awesome people.

I can’t do it all.

I can’t have it all.

Nor do I want to. 

This place is a veritable buffet of cultural experiences.
No need to be a glutton.

I can taste this one and try that one.

I can savor each bite. Each experience.

I can even come back for seconds on the ones that I really enjoy.

I can work hard to reach some of my dreams.

I can choose to set others aside - for now or forever.

I can try one more time to make contact with that person I’ve been trying to find. I can try as many times as I want. But then I don’t have to feel badly if I just can’t make it happen.

I can walk to the beach some mornings, but don’t need to do it every day.

I will push myself to fulfill some of my dreams. 

To reach some of my goals. 

And I will choose to relax other times.

How about you?

Do you have too many dreams to get them all done?

That is totally NOT a bad thing!