Lost in space - ?

I wake up leisurely... thinking of things I want to write about. I crawl out from under the covers and throw on a cozy sweater…  eager to get started.

Wait…   So how am I suddenly wandering around amid a forest of incoming messages from somebody somewhere out there in cyber space?

Yep, it happened again.

...

I really like to write first thing in the morning while I am fresh and focused.  Here I am a retiree who doesn’t have to punch a time clock.  I love and appreciate my wonderfully flexible schedule.  So why would I squander those precious first minutes of the day?

I made that decision awhile ago…  and I have built that habit.  I’ve chosen to cherish the privilege of being able to write first thing in the morning.  As a general practice, I arrange my schedule around that priority of writing first thing in the morning.

So why do I still find myself wandering in the cyber jungle some mornings?  Somehow it sneaks up on me... but I am not ready to give in to it.   I need to discover the malfunction.  The leak.  What isn’t working…

So I pay attention. When I discover that I’m lost in cyber space again, I try to notice how I got there.

- How is the world is sneaking in?

- Did I leave some window open last night? 

- Some tab? Some website that calls to me this morning?

Author Andi Cumbo tells of a teacher from years earlier, Sharman Apt Russell, who said, “I write before the world intrudes.”  Like many of us, that teacher prioritized her writing before any of the other “first things” of the morning.  Cumbo adopted that philosophy at the time and remembers how it got her through grad school.  However she has recently realized that "first thing in the day" can get too vague, too general. Too squishy. She decided to reclaim that specific sentiment once again...

“I write before the world intrudes.”

I kinda’ love the phrase - partly because it helps me visualize the world out there as a monster waiting to sneak into my space.  To invade my privacy in those precious personal moments before putting on my space suit and stepping into the day.

…

Intrusion is the action of intruding. 

To intrude is to put oneself deliberately into a place or situation where one is unwelcome or uninvited.  

There is indeed a whole world of all kinds of stuff out there ready to intrude into my private space.

…

No one else is going to guard my personal private space capsule.  

It is up to me.

I am the one who must figure out the leaks and repair the malfunctions.

I am the one with the power to keep things tight.

And so I shall.

I might even employ some mixed metaphors now and then... if they prove to be effective.  Whatever it takes. Because it is important to me to cherish the time - before the world intrudes.

Seriously.

The gift of un-busy

"Slow down.

Clear your calendar.

Take time to breathe deeply
and enjoy the season."

A few years ago I worked hard to get to a place of un-busy.  Sure enough, I very much enjoyed the feeling of simplicity.  I asked myself about that the other day - how I did it and why I let it slip away.

Oh, yah, it was because we were out there living on the road…

• Away from our world and our peeps
• Away from our roots.
• Away from friends and family
• Away from any kind of social life
• Away from time commitments

It was nice to not be so busy.  

To not always be scurrying or feeling behind

But it wasn’t perfect.

I missed my peeps, those little grands, our kids, and dear friends.

I missed having at least a bit of a social life.

So here we are a couple years later and we’ve again put down roots. Even though we knew hardly anyone when we moved here, we found ourselves surrounded by wonderful people who soon became friends.  Options and opportunities abound in this place so I just had to try everything.  

Until I couldn’t.

Until I remembered that I can’t do it all.

That I might have to re-teach myself how to pick and choose only the best.  I had to admit that my old tendency to over-commit had returned with a vengeance.  I needed to step back and make some changes.

For three months now I have been intentionally finding my way back toward un-busy.  Not there yet, but I am beginning to breathe easier.

This would be the perfect spot for my magical list of three easy steps to find un-busy.  Sorry; I haven’t found time to come up with a neat list all tied up with a bow.  I’m still in the trenches on this - reminding myself to notice how I’m doing and to ask the hard questions about my choices.  I’m still finding my way back to sanity.  I choose to give myself the gift of un-busy again.  To live at a healthy pace.

Maybe next month I can come up with a handy-dandy list.  

Or maybe not.

the practice of the better

The best criticism of the bad

is the practice of the better.

Just go ahead and do it better.

If you really believe in the values

you say you believe in,

then put them into practice.

- Fr. Richard Rohr

Amazing Day #31: Much to learn

I probably should not have taken on this challenge this year.

I was already over-committed.

WHAT was I thinking?

I guess I thought it seemed like a good thing.

A noble thing even.

To challenge myself to look for the amazing.

And yes, it has been a most excellent exercise.

It has been good for me - to force myself to take notice.

To discipline myself to articulate the thoughts.

And I did it.

I succeeded.

I finished.

’Twas an accomplishment.

…

I guess I can admit that it was a good thing and still admit that it was probably not a wise choice.

Once again I’ve been reminded that I cannot do all the good things.

Duh.
I'm still learning - or at least I hope I am - because I still have much to learn.

Maybe some day I’ll get to the point where I recognize this kind of wisdom BEFORE I take on something else.  

Now THAT would be amazing.

Amazing Day #30: Awesome

I keep thinking of that word.
Awesome.

During this month of amazing days...
Of watching for the amazing...
The word "awesome" often comes to mind.
That which inspires awe.
Or expresses awe.

Some think we over-use this word.

That we use it flippantly.

I suppose that could be true, but it’s a good word.

An important word.

There are lots of things in this life that inspire awe.

That evoke appreciation and gratitude.

That cause us to stop and notice.

I do not take this thing or this word lightly, but I do wish to notice the awesome.

I choose to watch for it.  

Sometimes even to search for it.

I think it is a worthwhile quest.
…

There is also much in this life that is not good or great.

There is much that is wrong.

Oppression and injustice are rampant.

It is easy for me to focus on the bad or the downright awful.

Yes, I’ve written about that before because the struggle is real.

Pessimism comes quite naturally for me.  Perhaps for most of us.

Worry, frustration, fear, and even panic can settle over us too quickly.

...

So which will I look for?

As much as I can manage to do so, I will think on the good things.

The things that are noble and true and right.

The pure.

The lovely.

The admirable.

The excellent and praiseworthy.

I will think on such things.

Amazing Day #9: Check it off!

I did it.
I made that phone call.
I got that appointment.
I've been intending to do it for weeks - or maybe months.
I really needed to do ti.

But I am a great procrastinator.
I don't like making phone calls.
I don't like doing the thing I needed to do.

And there was the obstacle that first I needed to make some "pre-steps" - to do some research and find out what I needed to know BEFORE I could make the phone call.  After all, I didn't even have a phone number yet.  So every time I tried to get myself to do it, I realized that I needed to take those other steps first.  I didn't even know where to start.  But yesterday I solved one of those dilemmas.  I asked the questions and found the information I needed.  

And today I acted on it.

I made the phone call.
Amazingly, I was offered an appointment for THIS WEEK!
In two days!
I am impressed.
Yay!
Get 'er done!
Check it off!

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.

They are telling our story

I've just been introduced to Dave and Sheryl Balthrop and have learned some of their story about selling their house and combining households with her mom. They blog about their journey at Simple Life Reboot.

They are telling our story. Well, they are telling THEIR story but some of it is just like our story.  Sure; the details are different, but they are articulating many of our thoughts almost verbatim.

Here are just a few lines from Dave and Sheryl that are almost exactly what we've said and thought - illustrated by a couple of our pictures.

"While we recognized that our over-sized house used most of our resources,

we justified the expenditures by telling ourselves

that we needed to maintain a large legacy home

that could serve as a gathering place for our children and future grandchildren.

"But we began to realize that they weren’t really gonna’ come back all that often. 

We were gonna’ need to go see them. 

Their lives were busy."

"A big part of what drives us is our kids.

What they’re into

What they’re doing and

Our ability to stay in contact with them

"But the house was sorta’ tying us down.

"The house that we thought was so important  

to keep for them to come home to...

This house might be the obstacle hindering us from going to see the kids."

…

Dave summarizes: 

"Early on, we realized it was the right thing to do.

As we got further into the process,

we knew that it was ABSOLUTELY the right thing."

...

Sheryl remembers:

"It was emotional.

What will people think?"

...

Regarding downsizing:

"We ... consider it an advance gift to our children

in that they would never have to deal with boxes and boxes

of unneeded items which we edited from our lives."

Regarding the gatherings, Sheryl wondered if the kids would come to her mom’s house for Christmas and other gatherings.

"Would they still come?"

"Would they feel comfortable?"

And then she answers the question:

"Yes, they still come. 

It gets a little silly, with lots of blow-up beds,

but I think it’s more of an adventure.

"They’re coming to spend time with us and with each other, 

not to be in a particular space."

Yes, we have said and thought almost these exact things about the place and the people.

...

And here are a few other wise words from Dave:

"I believe we move towards that which we contemplate."  

Now there's something to contemplate.

Read more of their story HERE.

The Mexican fisherman

A few days ago I wrote about the poverty and difficult circumstances that many Dominicans face.

Today I happened to remember this story.*
One of my favorite stories ever. 

Perspective
Attitude
Priorities
Contentment
...

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village.  An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.

The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife.  In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs . . .I have a full life."

The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat.

With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers.   Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City!  From there you can direct your huge enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American.

"And after that?"

"Afterwards? That's when it gets really interesting," answered the American, laughing.

"When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really?"  And after that?"

"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends."

...

* I have no idea where this story originated. It guess it is public domain by now - and lots of people have written about it all across the internet.

Lolita

I had submitted to Lolita* for as long as I could remember. I grew up trying to make her happy. I learned which things would make Lolita proud of me and which things would disappoint her. Obviously I tried to do more of the former and less of the latter. As I got older and gained new knowledge and learned new skills and tried new adventures, Lolita kept popping up to encourage me or discourage me by her words - or even just a look. Her approval reinforced certain behaviors in me and her disappointment provided incentive to stop doing certain others.

I cherished the warm relationship we had - WHEN I was doing things right. I didn't so much enjoy the guilt feelings when I didn't quite live up to her wishes.

Eventually I became aware of my own confusion and frustration. I was pretty sure that some of the new things I discovered were important to who I was created to be. They were part of my uniqueness. The way I was wired. They were worth celebrating and nurturing. But what if Lolita didn't agree? What if she didn't like those new skills? What if she didn't share that passion?  What if she didn't approve of my priorities? Would I deny the new discoveries? The bright and beautiful? The inspired and anointed? The growth and development of my potential? How should I handle her lack of approval? I felt conflicted between the reality of what I truly believed was right and good and admirable on the one hand and the burden of Lolita's wishes on the other.

Not only was Lolita less than enthusiastic about some of my strengths and passions, but some of her plans for me did not ring true within my spirit. My honest evaluation did not confirm them as being right for me. Should I force myself to live up to Lolita's wishes? Must I make myself do the things that I am not good at? The things that frustrate me? Dare I refuse certain demands or is that selfish and arrogant of me?

I found myself trying to find compromises. Trying to do what I could to keep Lolita happy without neglecting my own mission and purpose. Trying to do it all. Trying not to disappoint anybody. To find a balance. To juggle the multiple demands. It worked sometimes, but eventually it became impossible. Something had to give. Finally I began to realize that I had to figure out who in the world I must answer to. Was Lolita my authority? Or was I responsible to someone higher?

This process of discovery took a long time, but eventually I began to acknowledge that Lolita did not own me. I began to find the courage to take ownership over my own life. My own person. I was the one responsible to make the choices for me. Once I affirmed the truth of my responsibility, there was still the matter of learning how to step up and take it. Yes, another long process. I'm happy to report huge progress. But oh, my; there is so much yet to learn.

I'm also happy to report progress in redefining my relationship with Lolita. I have discovered that she can be part of my world without being my master. I can bump into her on the street without cowering in fear.

By the way, I can also admit that Lolita is not the villain. The struggle was not all her fault.  The things she taught me, the demands she put on me, the pressure to submit, were simply what she herself had been taught. They were part of the system. I need not blame Lolita. Nor do I need to blame myself. I can simply take responsibility for where I am today and where I choose to go from here.

...

* Lolita is a fictional character, a composite of several people (both male and female) in my life who "loved me and had a wonderful plan for my life" and who exerted various degrees of authority over me through the years.

What's your excuse?

 

We all have excuses. Good excuses. Bad excuses.

There are really good reasons why we do the things we do... Good reasons why we choose not to do other things. But sometimes the things that seem like good reasons turn out to be just excuses.

We make choices and those choices bring about consequences. Some of those consequences turn into obstacles for our future choices. When we come to a point where we really want to make big changes in our lives, we bump into those obstacles and have new choices to make. It can be a vicious cycle.

 

Obstacles make pretty good excuses to stay where we are. Unless, of course, we get to the point where we don't want them to block us anymore - at which point we can decide to do something about them. Of course, it won't always be easy. And sometimes it may not even be possible to remove the obstacles. But we will probably never find out until we try.

Allison Vesterfelt has experience with letting good reasons become excuses - obstacles that kept her from achieving her goals. Fortunately, she has also learned much about dismantling those excuses. In this article she deals with some of the most common excuses I've heard - AND used:

• I don't have the money.
• I don't have the time.
• It's not possible.

Yes, sometimes those are true. Sometimes they are valid reasons. But sometimes they are not really good reasons. Sometimes they are simply excuses.


 What's your excuse?

Have you taken time to examine it carefully?

Is it a good reason? Or is it simply an excuse?

Is there something you can do about it?


What are you willing to do?


...


I keep asking myself what I am willing to do about my excuses.

How shall I then respond?

So what is my response to these amazing happenings? It has been fun to reminisce about our journey so far. To shake my head and wonder about all of the parts. The causes and effects...
How in the world did this happen?
Why are we so blessed?

...

If some of the things that have happened to us are beyond our control, how should we respond?

If they are blessings? Gifts of grace?

If we have done nothing to earn it...

If we can take no credit for it...

Then what shall I do with it?

No reason to be arrogant or conceited if I didn't earn this blessing.

I can't really be proud of it. I can't brag about it.

...

But I can be thankful.

I can receive it as the gift that it is.

And so I do.

I often pause to feel my gratitude.

...


And what about those other things?

The ones that we DID work hard to accomplish...

The conscious decisions that we made...

The steps we took...

The sacrifices we made...

Yes, I guess I can be proud of those.

They didn't come naturally and they didn't come easily.

...

Before we started this process, I may have believed that minimalism is easy for some people. And since it did not seem easy or natural for me, I may have even believed that it was not possible for me.

But then I came across these lines from Vincent Nguyen, a fellow Tribe Writer, in a guest post at "becoming minimalist." He listed many objections that people offer - including this one: "Minimalism is easy for you. It’s your personality to live with less. But that’s not me!"

Vincent says:

Though there may be some truth in that statement, it’s certainly not all personality. Minimalism is a conscious decision to pursue less. Many of us have made it and almost none of us had it completely easy.

I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide, 'I’m going to be minimalist!' For me, it happened through a series of realizations and struggles. A lot of thinking and sacrifices took place.

I didn’t decide to love less because of my personality. I decided to live with less because I saw value in it. There may be some people out there who desire less since birth, but they are a small minority. The rest of us struggled through it. Eventually, we thanked ourselves for doing so.

Vincent was describing us. It had happened gradually - "through a series of realizations and struggles." Yes, a series. A process. His last line really caught my attention...

The rest of us struggled through it.

 

Eventually,

 

WE THANKED OURSELVES

 

for doing so.

I was intrigued by the idea of thanking ourselves. We can thank ourselves? That caught me off guard, but then I thought, "Hey, why not?"

I guess we can. We can thank ourselves for being willing to even consider this process.

We can thank each other for being sensitive and compassionate about the tough choices.

We can thank me for coming to a place where I was willing to let go of the place that has been in my family for three generations. And to let go of the heirloom china cabinet from four generations on the other side of my family.

I can thank Bob for his patience with me in the midst of all of those agonizing decisions - both the big dramatic ones AND the thousands of little bitty ones.

I can definitely thank him for his hard work in hauling our stuff from the big house to the storage shed and then to wherever they all ended up going.

I can also thank him for his good example of keeping things current - which is absolutely vital as we live in smaller spaces now.

We can thank each other for the diligence and persistence to keep at the task for all these years - box by box, shelf by shelf, bin by bin.

...

But you know what? It's not just the two of us.

There are so many others who have helped us in this process - some from a distance and some nearby. I don't suppose we could have done this without the support of others - which came in various forms.

There was the friend who taught me at the beginning of this process that we have far more than "things" by which to remember our loved ones. And other friends who have reinforced that concept and who have reassured me in so many ways.

There was the friend who pointed out that we did have assets that we could make use of. For example; we COULD sell the farm. And yes, even though we were not yet willing to consider it at that moment, the seed was planted.

There are so many friends who by encouragement and example have helped to open our eyes - not only to the possibility but also to the value of a simpler life and freedom from so much stuff.

There are the friends in my support group who have been so quick to encourage me to keep going in the midst of big projects, to pick me up when I felt defeated or exhausted, to remind me of truth when I couldn't see past my frustration, to correct my perspective when necessary, and to simply offer kind compassionate pats on the back.

There are friends who have given me books and other resources that have been helpful in my re-training myself.

And there are friends who have offered a new home for some of my cherished possessions that I just couldn't abandon.

I say thank you to each of those friends.

...

And besides these dear friends, there are also those who don't even know us, but who have helped us on this journey. There are the bloggers and the authors who have contributed to our education. I am currently grateful for Joshua Becker at "becoming minimalist" because his regular posts have reminded me of many of the reasons why we have been making these tough decisions. And he continually offers tools and resources to help with the process. He and others like him have helped us understand the reasons for living a simpler life.

Our purpose for downsizing is not to deprive ourselves. To the contrary, it has been to make room for the things that really matter. We wouldn't have voluntarily chosen to let go of so many GOOD things if not to make space for the BEST.

...

Yes, I am happy to give thanks - to and for all of those who have helped us make this transition.

Thank you. All of you.

...

   Continue with the next post...

        ...or see the entire series here.