What to Do When the Well Runs Dry

Posted on November 25, 2013 by thewritertracy

Years ago, I started a gratitude journal.  I’m quite sure it was Oprah or Sarah Ban Breathnach, the author of Simple Abundance who inspired me (I couldn’t get that into the book, but appreciate it’s premise).   It lasted about two weeks. 

And then: I was out of things to say.  Think about it.  Writing 5 things a day for 7 days a week: that’s a lot of thankful to come up with.

So after I’d listed my kids, my husband, my financial security, my parents, my in-laws, my dog, my health, and my friends, well, the well simply went dry.  But not for long.

Ever the persistent writer, I decided to push through my dry spell.  That’s when it came to me:

I don’t have to be thankful for just the big things in life, little things are just as wonderful.  

So now, as I list my blessings each day I find they are smaller, more specific, but also to me, more real.   So these days my gratitude journal reads a little differently.

I’m thankful for…

The gift of a 15-minute conversation (uninterrupted) with my husband.

A Saturday morning that doesn’t begin before 9:00am.  

My daughter’s persistent desire to understand the world as she asks what would happen if the sun burned out, how long it takes to walk to California, and wonders about the worth of 1957 D Lincoln Wheat Penny.  

Hot tea on a cold fall morning.  

A local gym where I can exercise, and a body that’s healthy enough for me to do so.

Of course I’m thankful for the huge blessings in my life.  But the seemingly insignificant things now also take up space in my heart.  A book that carries me far, far away on a Sunday afternoon, an unexpected text from my daughter away at college, the warmth of my dog lying at my feet while I write this post; these things are not at all insignificant.

Little thing are truly big things; if we can remember this, the well will never run dry. 

May this Thanksgiving, and all your days be blessed with a multitude of little things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Faith, Family Life, God, inspiration, kids, life lessons, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

No Need for Improvement…

Posted on November 19, 2013 by thewritertracy

As soon as he said it, I could feel my heart’s skepticism.  I wanted to believe him, but I was having trouble. 

God couldn’t love you more. 

I’ve heard it said before, in a variety of ways, but before, the words simply entered my brain and went right back out.  No time spent pondering the depth of meaning behind them.

But this time the words struck me.  And so there I sat in church, my daughter by my side, unable to listen to anything else our pastor said.  My mind, fixed on those words, spent the hour trying to conceive how they could be true.

How could God love me just the way I am?  

How could he not love me more when I do more, when I serve more, when I become a better person, a better Christian? 

I know I am loved.  I know I do not need to earn this love.  It’s just that I have this thing, it’s called a conscience.  And often it sends me down a path.

A path that tells me I need to be a good person.  A path that tells me when I’m not, He’s disappointed.  A path that leads me away from Him instead of toward Him in those times when I feel badly about my behavior, my actions, my choices.  But that’s not how it works.

God couldn’t love you more. 

I have a friend who was once surrounded by troubles in his life.  He was in pain for sure, and I suggested he might pray.  I’ll never forget his response, “I’m pretty sure God doesn’t like me very much right now.”

It made me sad.  My friend couldn’t see past his conscience.  He, like me, could not fathom that God couldn’t love him more.  That God’s grace is enough.  No matter what we do.  No matter how we act.  No matter how many times we mess up or ignore him or walk away.  No matter.

So I consider:

If it’s true, couldn’t I quit worrying about doing things to serve him?  Yes.

If it’s true, couldn’t I relax, stop working so hard and just enjoy life?  Yes.

If it’s true, couldn’t I stop going to church and be lazy on Sunday mornings?  Yes.

And if I did, what would God think?  I guess if I am to believe my pastor’s words, even if I did all of these things, still, He couldn’t love me more. 

It’s hard to imagine such a love.  I think of my children, my husband.  I think how if you asked me if I could love them more, I’d tell you no.  But yet, there are times, if I’m honest, when my feelings ebb and flow.  Times when my family members aggravate me, disappoint me, let me down.  And I too, aggravate them, disappoint, let them down.  This is the way it is with family; you love each other and you also take each other for granted.

But this is not the way it is with God.  Romans 3:23-24 tells us that we are all sinners, we all fall short of the glory of God, but yet we are all freed by His grace.

He couldn’t love us more. 

So as I pray to understand the strength of this love, will I change my ways?  Will I let go of my crazy life, my responsibilities, my Sunday mornings at church (okay, I don’t make it there every Sunday)?  No.  Because it’s not about me.  It’s about Him.

Because I couldn’t love Him more. 

And when I do these things, conscience or no conscience, I feel better.  I feel His love, His presence. I deepen my relationship with Him.

These actions don’t make me a better person (is there such a thing?); I am not.  But they do honor my relationship with Him.  They remind me, in times of doubt, that I am already enough,  that He couldn’t love me more.  And this is reason enough for me to get up on Sunday mornings.

 

Posted in Faith, Family Life, God, inspiration, life lessons, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

5 Keys to a Rich Life…Thanks Mom

Posted on November 14, 2013 by thewritertracy

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My mom and me at Tavern on the Green in NYC; 2009

“Five things she taught you,” he said, “it can be anything.” 

It was Mother’s Day and my brother was hosting the family get together.  Each of us were to make a list of 5 things our mother taught us and it would be our gift to Mom.

I left this task to the last minute.  I thought it would be easy.  But I was wrong.  How can you narrow down the list of what your mother has taught you to a measly 5 things?

It took a while but I eventually sorted it out.  I landed on the lessons that really stuck with me, things that guided me not only as a child but also as a teen, as a young married woman and now, as a middle-aged mother of three.

My mom’s birthday is just days away, and in honor of her, I want to share this list with you.

 5 Things I learned from My Mother

1-The best way out is through.  I never wanted to hear this.  Because she said it when things were going badly.  When I came home crying after a horrendous waitressing shift (think spilled water, yelling customers and small tips) and had to go back in two hours for the dinner shift. When I suffered through an entire year of Research Psychology, a horribly difficult class I took at Hanover College.  When I hated my job and didn’t know whether to quit or stay.

It took me forever to understand what she meant; sometimes life is stressful but you can’t sit in the corner cowering.  You need face what’s coming and tackle it head on.  The tunnel may be long, it may be dark and it may be scary, but there’s only one way out.

2-How to cook: pot roast, chicken and noodles, asparagus soup, beef tenderloin, sausage gravy and of course pork chops!   When I was twenty-three and living in an apartment I called my mom to ask how to fry pork chops.  She told me how she does it and assumed I knew that in order to fry, one needs oil.  I did not.  The smell of flour burning in a pan will set your smoke alarm off in case you are wondering.

Over the years we’ve had many a laugh over that incident, but I did eventually learn how to cook.  And what a gift!  Cooking is work but it is also a joy, a creative outlet and a way show love to my family.  My kids often ask me to make their favorite dishes for dinner and most of these recipes came from my mother.

3-Be independent and stand up for yourself.   My mom is fiercely independent.  Always has been.  She is smart, confident and has always gone after what she’s wanted with vigor.  Me?  I am of a completely different personality; was born a quiet, shy, less-than-confident kid. I hesitate over everything. But no one who has met me in my adult years believes this.

Because I learned to be independent (and somewhat confident) from my mom.  I talk easily with strangers. I try new things.  I go to the movies by myself, go anywhere by myself.   I am still that same old shy person inside, but I have learned how to get by in the world in my own way.  I’ve learned to do what I want, be whom I want, go after what I want.  It has made a difference in the person I am today.

4-Live the life you want and you’ll be happy.   My mom was an educator, taught college throughout my youth.  Yet she never badgered me about grades, never pushed for me to become a cheerleader or captain of the debate team, never told me where to go to college.  She and Dad allowed my brother and I to make our own choices.  They encouraged us to do what we wanted and supported our endeavors.  Be who you were designed to be, they said.  I’m not sure there is better advice out there.

5-Live within your means.  Getting a job at age 16 was a requirement in our house.  And with it came only 1 condition: put money from each paycheck in the bank.  I have done this ever since.  As a teen, I received a modest allowance for clothes and personal items.  From this I learned how to live on a budget.  And better yet, I learned a valuable lesson:  money and happiness aren’t so intimately connected.  Money is nice, but it’s not a prerequisite for a rich life.  Rather, it’s just icing on the cake.

Happy birthday Mom!  I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me. 

We’ve all learned something from our mothers.  What’s the most important thing  your mother taught you?

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The Day God Laughed at Me

Posted on November 6, 2013 by thewritertracy

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I was headed up the stairs, ready to pop into bed and settle down with a good book; I was done with my day.  It was then that she came to me.

My teenage daughter was having trouble with a homework assignment, wanted reassurance that she was on track with how to complete it.  I was happy to help her.  But as we dove in, I realized she just how hard my daughter’s AP US History class is, and how long it’s been since I’ve been a student myself.  That is when I took a breath and whispered:

“Help me, God, for I am not equipped.” 

It took an hour, but somehow we waded through the highlights of the Jacksonian Democracy.  I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been much help without that (answered) prayer.

In fact, the older I get, the older my children get, the more often I find myself uttering these words under my breath.  Because if there is anything I’ve learned in all my years of parenting, it’s this:

I don’t have all the answers. 

I wish I did.  I wish it were that easy. I wish I could just close my eyes and the answers would come.

But it doesn’t work like this.  Instead, I find myself cruising along in mom-mode only to be slapped in the face with the need of the day.  I’m never prepared.  Never have wise words, historical knowledge, or a life-changing quote in my back pocket.  So instead, I panic.  Stumble.  Sweat.  Pray.

I remember a day long, long ago when I was overwhelmed by the demands of motherhood.  I had a newborn and a toddler and a husband working long hours.  And after a string of sleepless nights, and a long day filled with coughs and runny noses and tantrums and insecurities about my ability to get these kids to adulthood, I simply lost it.  My eyes fell upon a cheap plastic shopping cart, and kicked it across the family room.  All the way across the family room.  I kicked it so hard it broke.  And then I broke.

I put the kids in bed for their naps and went to my room, where I lay on my bed, and sobbed.  I told God I couldn’t do this.  I told him I was sorry, but this was too hard.  I told him I was going to ruin my children.  And guess what?  I felt God’s response.  Felt it with every fiber in my being.  Guess what it was?  Laughter.  God laughed at me.  Okay, it was more like a chuckle, but still, it startled me.  Made me feel silly for being so upset, like I was making a mountain out of a molehill, which I was.  Then he whispered these words into my heart:

You’re doing fine.  It’s going to be okay. 

It was a really strange experience.  But to this day I’ll never forget it.  And it has led me to be closer to Him. Led me to believe it will be okay.  Led me to realize my husband and I can’t raise these kids on our own.  We need Him.

Because: I don’t have all the answers.   But He does. 

He knows what my kids need more than I do.  He knows the situations they face better than I do.  He knows what they must go through to become stronger, wiser, more reliant on him.

But then there is that one tricky thing…

I am the one right sitting with them at the kitchen table.  I am the one who has to say something, do something, be someone who can guide them through whatever they are facing.  And as my kids grow older, what they face becomes much more complex.

No more worries about sharing or tying shoes or learning to ride a bike.

Instead we’re figuring out relationships, responsibilities, reactions to the world and all that is in it.

Lately there has been many a night at the kitchen table.  One of my three, in need of me.  So I’ve been pondering how to best handle these nighttime chats at the table.  I’ve been worrying about having the right words.  Sometimes though, there are no words.

But last week I went to lunch with a group of friends.  We had a great time talking and telling stories and revisiting our youth.  One friend shared a story of her first love.  She mentioned that while her mom was not fond of who turned out to be Mr. Wrong, she was still a great support for my friend at that time in her life.

Here it is, I thought, my chance to learn from a mother who did things right!   So I asked, “What did she say?”  Help me God, I’m not equipped.    

“She just listened,” said my friend, “She didn’t judge, and she didn’t tell me what to do, she didn’t withhold her love.”  And when my friend’s world completely fell apart, her mom simply said to her, “What can I do?”

This is it, my answer.  I don’t have to have all the answers.  I can talk, I can encourage, I can impart wisdom, but really all I need to do is listen.  Support.  Love.  And if one of my kids faces a moment when she feels her world is falling apart, I can say, “What can I do to help?”

Thank you God for your constant presence.  For your help in those moments when I feel lost.  For speaking to me through others.  And even, for laughing at me all those years ago.

Posted in Faith, Family Life, God, humor, inspiration, life lessons, marriage | Tagged , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Learning to Live in the Present

Posted on October 31, 2013 by thewritertracy

We were at a local diner waiting for our food to arrive.  “Every time I go out to eat,” says my father as he looks around the restaurant; “people are staring at their phones.”

I of course, was staring at mine when he said it, my daughter playing a game on hers.

What am I doing?  I quickly tuck my phone away in my purse. “Yea, Dad,” I say, “for me, it’s a time filler, if I’m waiting on the kids, waiting in line, waiting for my meal, I can look at the weather, catch up on email or check the news.”   Yet, inside I wince at my own words. I was at lunch.  With my Dad.  No filler required.

My father, who’ll be 75 in a month, doesn’t and likely never will own a smart phone.  I think for a minute what life must be like for him.  What’s it like to watch those around you become absorbed in technology you have never used?   Smart phones.  Ipads. E-readers.  Social Media.  Technology has changed the way we live, the way we interact.

Our lunch arrives.  Our conversation halts as we each dig into our food.  As I work  my way through my grilled ham and cheese, I consider life without a smart phone.  I can’t fathom living without it.  Can’t imagine not being able to text my husband, check restaurant reviews on the spot, or figure out how I’d get anywhere without Google maps.

I didn’t used to be this way. In fact, I was one of the last to succumb to owning a cell phone.  And I only got it as a safety measure once we moved out of state.  At the time I had two small kids and an eleven-year-old sedan; having a cell phone was just smart.

For years I used that same phone.  I had the cheapest plan with 60 “free” minutes a month.  No one called me because I never gave out my number. But when the iPhone came out, my husband surprised me with one for my birthday.  It was sleek, cool, and capable of so many things!  In essence, there was no turning back.

But sometimes I’d like to. 

I’d like to go to the movies without hearing a ping or seeing a flash or feeling a vibration in my pocket.  I’d like to sit down to work without getting distracted every time my phone lights up with a Facebook update.  I’d like to go on vacation and just leave my phone at home.  Because lately I’ve been feeling like one of Pavlov’s dogs.

I know, I know:  I’m in control.  I can silence my phone.  Put it away.  Leave it at home when I go to the movies.  Sometimes, like that day I had lunch with my dad, I do put it away.  But the more I use it, the more I’m tempted by what my phone has to offer me.  I want it with me. Perhaps, I am not in control.

I’ve just started reading a great book, called The In-Between by Jeff Goins.  And I’ll be honest; when I heard about it, I wasn’t so interested.  I’ve familiar with Goins and believe him to be a great writer.  But this book is about savoring the mundane moments in life, the small moments in-between the great ones.   And I do that pretty well.  At least I thought I did.

But after that lunch, I came home to find an email where Goins was offering  a free download of his book.  I was curious, and took the bait.  So Monday evening, I grabbed my iPad, sat down on the couch and settled in for a good read.

And I learned a little something.  The book is about so much more than appreciating the little things.  It’s really about living in the present.  Appreciating the present.  If we’re rushing off to the next big thing in life, we aren’t paying attention to what is right in front of us.  The big things in life-college, weddings, babies, promotions, retirement-these moments are few and far between.

But most of life is about little moments.  A quick breakfast with your husband.  Driving your teen to the orthodontist. Watching The Amazing Race and sharing a bowl of popcorn with your kid.  And these little moments can be really cool, if you are present for them.  But if you aren’t, well then you’re missing out. Hmmm…

I look up from the book and notice our TV is on.   No one in the room is watching it.  My husband is engrossed in an electronic form of Suduku.  My eleven-year-old is simultaneously playing a game on her iTouch and gobbling down Cheese-Its.  We are three in a room, but we are not together.  We are missing this very moment.

Not every night is like this.  We have plenty of family time at our house, lots of conversation around the dinner table, evenings watching Bones or The Middle together.  But if I’m honest, we’re a family on the brink.

On the brink of falling into really bad (and addictive) habits.  On the brink of becoming a little more detached from each other.  On the brink of wasting our time on our personal devices instead of using our moments to connect with one another.  Ugh.

My father is right: go anywhere and everyone is staring at their phone.  Checking email.  Checking Facebook. Checking Twitter updates.  Maybe, my family is not so unusual.  Maybe we’re a world on the brink.

I don’t want to do this; I don’t want to be this.  I want to be present for the ordinary in my life.  I want to unplug and absorb whatever it is that is happening around me.

And so I remind myself of this:  I am in control.  I can put my phone away, turn my computer off, and be present in what is happening around me.  I just have to be willing, make a conscious effort to do so.  And be disciplined about it.

And I will.  But maybe I’ll do it until after I finish Goins’ book!  🙂  After all, technology isn’t all bad…

Posted in Family Life, humor, inspiration, life lessons, marriage, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

When I say no, I (don’t) mean it!

Posted on October 25, 2013 by thewritertracy

It all started last May. 

One night after dinner my now eleven-year-old daughter grabbed my hand in hers, yelled for her Dad to “please come here” and urgently led us both to the basement.

And there, in the center of the room, on a card table, lay everything we’d ever want or need to know about hedgehogs. Fun facts, photos, and a list of why hedgehogs are the perfect pet.  Abby then give us a ten-minute presentation on why we should allow her to become the owner of one of these very unique spiny mammals.

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I worked hard to contain my laughter; this kid was well prepared!  But after her spiel, it took my husband and I just a few seconds to weigh in with our thoughts, “Uh, no.”

You see, Abby is the youngest of three.  And over the span of the last fifteen years, between all our girls, we’ve been the proud owners of angelfish, beta fish, dwarf hamsters, teddy bear hamsters, multiple dogs and at least six hermit crabs.  So at this point in time, I was done.  Done owning anything more exotic than a dog.

But everything changed in June.  Because in June our adorable much beloved six-year-old American Mastiff, whom Abby has always been extremely close to, got a tiny bump on her paw.  Two days later, that bump was the size of a golf ball.  Long story short, our Sadie Jane had bone cancer, an extremely painful and incurable disease.  And while I know everyone loves his dog, there was something really special about this dog, I’ve never met a sweeter, gentler 150-pound klutz of a canine.

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She was the kind of dog our neighbors would ask about whenever I saw them.   The kind of dog our vet seemed to love as much as we did.   We were all hurting when it was time for her to go. Especially Abby.

So I don’t know if she just saw an opportunity, or if she really needed something to take her mind off losing her Sadie, but soon after we lost our big dog, Abby re-ignited her hedgehog campaign.  And in our grief, in our weakest of moments, we said yes.  Until we discovered just how much a hedgehog cost.

$300; just for the animal.  Cage, food, supplies, all extra.  How about something else, something a little cheaper, I suggested.  And so it was that we spent many a day at our local pet store checking out geckos, chameleons, and turtles. We even took a peek at some tiny frogs.  Wow, did I learn a lot.  Tanks and heaters and humidity; it seemed if we were to get a reptile we’d have to reinvent its natural habitat (and buy live crickets!).  Ugh, the last thing I need is crickets and/or loose lizard in my house. But it didn’t matter; Abby’s heart was with the hedgehog. I was secretly relived.

So we came up with a compromise.  Save all your summer allowance, pair it with the birthday money we’ll give you, and then in October you can get a hedgehog.  And now, here we are…

So meet Dory (who, by the way, came from a less expensive, private breeder).

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I think I neglected to mention that I do not like all these weird pets we’ve owned.  In fact, I don’t touch them, don’t clean the cage, don’t do anything; it’s all up to my children to care for their pets. I just walk the dog.

But, I have to say, in just a week, Dori has grown on me.  She’s got these big eyes, this cute little face, and when she curls up in a ball, well, I soften. So while I won’t be cleaning the cage anytime soon, you might stop by and find me holding a hedgehog,  And if you do, just don’t sneak up on me.  Those quills are a little sharp!

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If Only Life Were Like an After School Special

Posted on October 23, 2013 by thewritertracy

In the last seven days I’ve dealt with illness, heartbreak, jarring news and some really unfortunate realities about life.  But I own none of it.

I have one friend who got her heart broken by her husband.

I have another who reached out to an estranged family member in an effort to reconnect.  She got the door slammed in her face.

And one is dealing with his disease; a debilitating disease that we all know won’t get any better.

So in the last seven days I’ve listened.  I’ve given advice.  I’ve held the hands of those I care about and discovered this:  I don’t have the answers.  Because sometimes, there are no answers.  Sometimes we can do everything ‘right’ in life, and still, we don’t get a happy ending.  We get, a raw deal.

And I don’t know what to do about this.  I don’t know what to think about this.  I don’t know how to process it.

Because I love a happy ending.

Give me a novel where the protagonist overcomes challenges and comes out victorious, and I’m all in.  I loved Jane Eyre.  The Secret Life of Bees.  Eat, Pray, Love.

And if it’s a movie, I’m a sap for inspiration.  Think It’s a Wonderful Life.  The Blind Side.  The King’s Speech.  I could name at least 20 more (Miracle, Soul Surfer, The Pursuit of Happyness…).   You get the picture (no pun intended).

But as I see what’s happening to those around me this week, I have to admit, life is not always like an after school special (remember these?) or a novel or an inspirational movie. Many of us have a story that doesn’t/won’t have a happy ending.

And as strong as my faith is, as much as I know God has a plan, even as I know eternal life will be so much better than this earthly one, I still don’t get it.  Or like it.

So today I am mulling.  Thinking.  Trying to figure it out.  But…I’m getting nowhere.

I typically am one who looks for the silver lining.  I hope for the best, I look to the good, and I count my blessings.  And it helps. Gives me perspective.  But still, sometimes the randomness of it all, the pain I see those around me go through, it gets to me.

So as much as I’d like to tie a bow of encouragement around today’s blog post, I simply don’t have one.  Do you?

Do you have a way of dealing with pain?  With unfair circumstances?  With staying positive in the midst of tragedy?  If so, I’d love to know it.  Love to learn the secret.  Love to really understand how others cope with unhappy endings.

Posted in Faith, Family Life, God, inspiration, life lessons, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

How to Accomplish A Goal, Your Goal; Any Goal

Posted on October 16, 2013 by thewritertracy

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I’ve been writing about weight loss this week.  I’ve interviewed 9 women and am telling each person’s ‘How I did it’ story in a feature for Kit magazine.  It’s been inspiring, has caused me to pause and think.  Not about weight, not about health, and not about fitness.  But about how to accomplish a goal; any goal.

Because we all have goals.  Things we want to accomplish in this life. Lose weight.  Quit smoking.  Finish school.  Write a book.  We have ideas in our head of how we might improve ourselves, achieve our dreams or advance the quality of our lives in some concrete way.

So we decide to go for it.  Do something.  Devise a plan, and inch ourselves toward our goal.

It’s exciting.  It feels good.  We feel like we’re finally getting our lives in order.  And then it happens:  we come upon an obstacle. Or two. Or three.  And obstacles change everything. 

They cause us to stop in our tracks.  They cause us to doubt.  They lead us to places in our brains. Places which aren’t very comfortable, with demons and nasty naysayer gnomes who’ve stood on our shoulders for years mocking us.   And if we aren’t careful, these obstacles cause us to give up.

I learned so much from the women I interviewed.  I learned that everyone’s struggle is a little bit different. One woman struggled to eat healthy, while another struggled to get herself in the gym.  One struggled with confidence in her ability to lose weight, while another struggled with the day-in/day-out commitment it takes to do so.  But they all struggled.

I also learned the path to success is equally diverse.  One woman took forever to commit to get healthy, but once the decision was made, quickly forged her way to success.  Another took her time, progressing inch by inch until she gained her footing.  It took her years to get healthy.  One woman tried and tried again only to fail repeatedly.  But one day, she picked herself up, found an inner strength she never knew she had, and she used it to achieve her goal.

I love hearing these stories. 

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from these women, it’s this: 

The key to success, the key to reaching a goal, any goal, boils down to doing two things.  You must:   

1-Start.

2- and Finish.

Most of us know how to start.  We know what we want, we know we have to make changes to get there.  Then one day, we gather everything we have in us and say: This is the day.

That’s me, anyway. I know how to start.  It’s the finishing I find to be a bit tricky. 

Because finishing takes time. Effort.  Commitment. Finishing takes finding your way through the stuff, the obstacles. It takes believing, even when there is no concrete evidence, that you’ll arrive, get there, achieve your goal.  Finishing…is hard work.

But it can be done.  People do it all the time.  They look deep within themselves, and find whatever it is they need and use to push through the stuff.  They pause before eating, they walk into the gym even when they don’t want to, they face doubt, fear, or laziness straight in the eye, consider it, and then…decide they’ll push forward instead.   I want to be that person. 

With my health.

With my writing.

With my personal relationships.

With my faith.

I want to get from A to B.  I want to keep walking, keep trying, keep pushing forward. Even when there is no concrete evidence that I will succeed.  In other words, I want to get to the finish line.

And on those days when the gnomes on my shoulder mock me, I’ll pull out this article and read my very own words and remember some really cool women who did it. Then I’ll thank God for allowing me to meet them, interview them and tell others of their success.

Posted in Goals, inspiration, life lessons, Risk, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

It’s Not Where You Go, It’s Who You Meet: 5 Lessons Learned while Traveling

Posted on October 9, 2013 by thewritertracy
Kruger National Park, SA

Kruger National Park, SA

We’ve just returned from a wonderful trip to South Africa.  It is, a beautiful country to say the least.  And while I could write about all we saw and did, and maybe I soon will, today I’m writing about some of the fascinating people we met.

Because I firmly believe we learn from those we meet in our lives.  And on this trip in particular, I learned many a lesson.

—

Her name was Margaret and she was missing her right front tooth.   And she was beautiful.

We were on our way back to our room.  It had been a full two days of traveling followed by a long game drive and late dinner. Needless to say we were exhausted, and truth be told wary even when she approached.

She moved slowly, her gait a little off, perhaps from years of backbreaking work.  Her skin was a dark brown, wrinkled from the years of the dry, hot African sun.  When she grabbed my hands and folded them into her own, I felt the warmth of Margaret’s spirit.  She smiled broadly, welcomed me to her lovely country, and told me she’d be cleaning my room during our stay.  And then-with those shining eyes staring deep into my soul, she closed her own and asked God to bless me.  Never have I felt such love from a total stranger.

Lesson One: God himself can shine right through us.  Through Him we have the ability to exude beauty, teeth or no teeth. When our hearts are aligned with his, we radiate love. No anti-aging cream in the world can compete with that.

—

DSCN0185 Table Rock Mountain, Cape Town, SA

On day two we met Diane and Ed.  When this couple sat next to us for dinner, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Well, okay, I expected the conversation to lack.  They were, I’d already observed, a quiet couple, older, seemingly nothing like us.  Thank God for that.

Because they were remarkable individuals.  Diane is an avid mountain biker, ranked third in the state of Arkansas.  Next month she’ll be riding in Nepal (Nepal!).  Her husband Ed loves to hike and repel.  Last year he hiked Mount McKinley in Alaska.  Diane, afraid for his safety, volunteered and trained to be an EMT on the mountain that summer.  She spent three months in the elements helping climbers in need.  Ed of course, lived to tell his story.

When she’s not biking, Diane works the search and rescue team for her local police department, guiding dogs to well, find bodies.  Ed runs his own thriving business.  Did I mention they have four kids?  We met up with Diane and Ed again later in the week and discovered they’d climbed Cape Town’s Table Rock Mountain.  We on the other hand, took the tram up…

Lesson Two:  Never, ever judge a book by its cover.  I was right that Diane and Ed were quiet, older and unlike us.  But they did not lack in conversation, they were really cool people.

—

DSCN0227 Great White Shark, Gansbaai, SA

On day three of our trip, my adventurous husband went shark cage diving (yes, it was cool and no, he wasn’t scared).   We had to drive to Gansbaai, a quaint fishing town on the coast known for its great white shark population.  Here I met Randy.

Randy is a talker, the kind who talks a lot about himself, and apparently he’s a morning guy.  Because at 4:30 AM as we pulled out of the parking lot for our drive, Randy, who sat directly behind me in the van, began talking (loudly) to his seatmates.  God help me.

I learned he’s married.  He and his (second) wife met through their daughters who play volleyball together. His son plays football but he isn’t too sure about this.  Said son has never been into contact sports, so Randy is going to “wait and see.”  His wife refused the shark diving trip but loves to shop, loves the spa and keeps him on the straight and narrow.  He frequents Vegas, where he and the boys can gamble, drink beer and curse with the best of them.  I didn’t want to know any of this.

I like almost everyone I meet, but at 4:30 AM I did not like Randy. Sigh….Yet I admit by about 3:00 PM, he’d grown on me. Even this nonstop talker had his moments.  He bought beers for everyone after the dive, spoke kindly to the guys selling their wares on the street, and made sure to give our driver a generous tip.  It’s possible I was just a little grumpy that morning.

Lesson Three:  Even the Will Ferrell’s of the world have a heart. There is good in everyone, sometimes we just have to look a little harder to find it.

—

IMG_1990 Shark Cage Diving, Gansbaai, SA

Also on the boat, was Linda.  After three hours in choppy waters, we were both nauseated so I shared my QueaseEASE with her.

In fifteen minutes I learned the following: Linda and her husband frequently boat in the Bahamas. Here they’ve seen much larger sharks, an eighteen-footer even as well as forty-foot whale.  While her husband flies there in a plane, she goes in her friend’s helicopter.  She owns a house in New Jersey and a house in Florida.  She and her husband are chartering a helicopter later this week.  She isn’t too sure how she feels about staying at the Westin in Cape Town (as in, it may not be nice enough).

All I could think was: are you a pathological liar?  Who lives like this?  She seemed nice though and the further we talked, the more I liked her.  Yet still, it seemed like every time I made a comment she was there with a story to one-up me.   When I later shared my thoughts with my husband, he brushed them off, said he’d enjoyed her.  Yes, I thought, I have a vivid imagination.  Maybe some people do live like Linda.

He then shared that she’d told him she used to be paralyzed.  I just looked at him.

Lesson Four:  Sometimes, you’ll be dumbfounded, never learn the truth of a given situation.  But maybe we don’t need to know.  Life goes on, as it should.

—

Cowboy

Midweek we found ourselves eating dinner with Texans Patti and Farris.  This was a group reward trip, so we had many outings/dinners with people we’d never met.  Farris couldn’t have been a better Texan. He hunts, loves beer, and is a father to a son who aspires to be a professional rodeo roper.  From Farris I learned this:  show horses cost a mint to take care of.   His son’s horse has its own private chiropractor and dentist.  Who knew such occupations even existed?

Wife Patti was more reserved.  But after exchanging stories about family (and a glass of wine) she shared that her mother had passed away this summer.  The resulting stress landed her in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer.  Once she started talking, the dam simply broke. Together we commiserated on how as women we feel the need to remain strong for everyone.  And sometimes, we forget to take care of ourselves.

Lesson Five:  We can learn from and be a support system for others, even when we don’t know them well.  We are all affected by life’s trials, and can all use a little encouragement (or a chiropractor) now and then. 

Posted in humor, inspiration, life lessons, travel, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Who’s In Charge of Your Life?

Posted on September 20, 2013 by thewritertracy

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It’s been a rough week for me.  So I’m holding onto scripture today.  It’s what I do when life gets out of control.  When my plate is full, when my hands are tied, when my mind is running ahead of me.

And it helps.

Because it reminds me I am not in charge.  It reminds me I am not in control.  It reminds me that sometimes, like a small child, I just need to sit down. Stop. And Listen.

I’ve been down this road a thousand times.  The road where I think I know better than He.  The road where I allow my own plans, my own excitement or my own worries to lead the way.  But whenever I take this road, I get lost.

And frustrated.  Agitated.  Arrogant.  And finally, I remember to stop and pray.  I ask for forgiveness. Ask for guidance.  Ask for patience.   And suddenly the peace, the wisdom, the answers: they come.  And it feels so good when the weight on my shoulders dissolves.

When I do this, I make progress.  I think before I walk.  I pray before I move.  I succeed, find myself headed in the right direction.  Until I get comfortable…And then, I get lost all over again.

This is my circle of life.

But slowly, ever so slowly, I am learning.  At least I like to think so (perhaps God is rolling his eyes right now).  But maybe I’m not.  Perhaps I’m just imperfect, and never, ever going to change.  But that’s not a fun thought!  So instead, I prefer to think I’m learning.  Improving.  Getting wiser with age.  That eventually my time spent leading the show will be less, and my time spent following Him will be more.  But who knows…

Regardless, every time I fall, fail, fear, forget, I’m happy to hold onto scripture.  To read it, write it down, absorb it’s meaning. To start over in my following instead of leading. And lucky for me, He never scoffs, never turns me away, never gets angry that once again I have wandered off path.

Here is what I love about reading the Bible: always, I find new meaning in old verses. Words I have read over and over again, words I’ve held onto in the past, when read again take on new significance.  It’s amazing.  It’s cool. It’s actually a bit mind blowing.

It’s true that I love to see connections.  My vivid imagination, my love for story, my creativity, they lead me to see things that perhaps others just don’t see.  Or don’t believe.  But who cares?  And who really knows anyway?  Wouldn’t you rather believe and see the dots that might be connected?  Wouldn’t you take being observant over being blind? Wouldn’t you rather step out in faith and just see what happens?

So today, once again, I find myself having to sit down.  Stop.  And listen.  And again I am reminded that I must let go, must let Him lead.  Any bets on how long I’ll last this time?

Posted in Faith, God, inspiration, life lessons, Risk, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments