"Raindrops keep falling on my head"......

It's raining today.  

Some days I feel like walking in the rain.  Walking in the rain can be like taking a look back at all that you have learned.  

This morning, I read through my blogs of the past three years and that's exactly what it felt like -- a walk in the rain, carrying no umbrella with raindrops "falling on my head".

My blog post on Humanness especially made me stop and ponder this morning.  This time it brought out a lesson is in a different context.  

At that time when I wrote on humanness, I was focusing on accepting my OWN humanness.  Being okay with myself as I walk along this bumpy, rocky, and sometimes hilly journey we call life.  Being okay with the fact that sometimes I don't walk "well".  Being okay with the fact that I stumble, choose the wrong footing, fall, and have to struggle to get back up again.  Being okay with the fact that I am not perfect.  It was about accepting myself and realizing that being human doesn't make me a bad person.  It helps me to accept myself as I learn and grow and make mistakes.  Accept MYSELF.

Today, as I was reading those words and walking in "the rain" of my thoughts, more realizations started forming, but this time it wasn't about my humanness.  It was about the humanness and acceptance of OTHERS.

Others = The people I love -- the ones in my tribe, my circle of acquaintances, and my family are all HUMAN!

In being human they are like me.  They stumble, and fall, and struggle, and choose words and actions unwisely, offend, and get stuck....just like me. 

They want to be accepted by their circle....just like me.

They want to be heard and loved....just like me.

They want to feel the sun on their face and feel free and at peace....just like me.

At times they might not be willing or ready to let certain things go yet....just like me.

They might need a friend to walk with....just like me.

Accepting those humans around me is just as important as accepting myself.  In fact, I found it to be harder because for some reason at times it is my nature to hold them to higher standards than I do myself.  For some reason, it's easy to believe that those humans around me should learn their lessons faster, be kinder,  struggle less, believe in themselves more, and  be this perfectly perfect person.... unlike me.  

Why should I believe that their journey of humanness is so different than mine?

It is wrong of me to think so, and when I can see my humans -- ALL humans with that frame of mind, then I believe it starts to set me free.  My spirit and mind become more open, and I start to feel more at peace within myself.  It's like giving them a "Get out of jail free" card from the Monopoly game I played long ago.  In my spirit and thoughts I extend grace to them as they live in their humanness. 

Extending grace and accepting people, however, doesn't mean the logical consequences of actions and words (positive or negative) go away.  

What it does mean is that my frame of mind in reference to them is different. 

It mean that at times it is easier to set down the "victim" hat and move forward in my own humanness.  It means that the old anxiety and strife when I think of a human that has wronged me doesn't bubble up as often...or to the same extent.  

It means that in my mind I can be healthy -- even if they are not.

No matter what

I've not written for a while.  Sometimes the scope of the path doesn't allow for times of quiet reflection.  Sometimes the rocky terrain of the journey forces you to pay attention to the path at hand and reflection is forced to wait.  My journey has been like that for me in the past few months.  When that happens, however, I long for times to sit and process.  My head is full of stories, and my heart is full of emotion.  The two don't always jive, honestly, my heart and my head.  It's on days like this, where I just HAVE to process, that I find a place to sit on the path no matter what is going on around me, and no matter where I am on the path.

I choose to sit and think and feel.

At times it is overwhelming all that comes to the surface.  It is almost as if I have my feelings chart in front of me, and the assignment is to circle what I am feeling at this moment.  As I contemplate the chart, I end up circling almost every feeling in every column!

So I sit and think and feel and try to sort those feelings into truths, and drown out the stories that my mind and heart tell me which aren't true.

Being honest with myself is a gift I give to myself -- No matter what.

Are you sure you want to go there?

I've always loved horses.  My aunt and uncle who lived next door to me as a child had a paint pony named "Apache".  He was fat and sassy and I loved going to visit him in the pasture.  My cousin Jodi had a horse -- a beautiful quarter horse -- and between those two horses  -- my dream of owning my own horse thrived.  After seeing the film Black Beauty as a kid, all I wanted to do was ride bareback down the beach on a horse -- playing -- enjoying the partnership.  I imagined it would be like flying.  Those dreams didn't die the older I got.

On the drive home from our honeymoon in New England two years ago, Paul and I excitedly started horse shopping.  By the time we reached home -- we had bought Ryker.  Two months later we added Casanova to our small herd -- and thus my dream of becoming a horse owner came true.   Thank you, Paul!!!

Since then, my horses are teaching me a lot about communication.

Horses are smart creatures that don’t usually talk back.   They listen -- and if you give them clear instructions and they understand what is expected of them -- they usually comply. 

Now, there are circumstances where they might not comply immediately -- as in they get distracted or are in pain -- but generally they will do what you ask.  The key is -- you must speak the same language.

I have found that the romantic idea of hopping on a horse and riding off into the sunset is not a true picture of horse ownership.  It takes time to learn the language -- for them to understand and for you to be clear.

So, I am learning to be clear in my communication.  I am learning to make sure my hands are giving the same signal as my leg.  I am learning that my mood sends signals -- just like facial expressions and body language does to my human partner.  If the signals are mixed -- my leg says go and my hands say stop -- it's no wonder the horse is confused and sends signals to me saying, "Hey, get your act together.  What is it that you really want?"

Consistency is key to successfully understanding one another.

As I think about my communication skills with the humans that I love, knowing what I am learning from my horses, I must ask myself questions in regards to how I communicate with them.   Am I sending a clear message of my wants and needs or am I expecting them to read my mind?  Am I expecting them to remember what I really want -- and am I patient with remind them if they forget?  Am I listening to them -- to make sure we are understanding one another?  Am I listening for their signals?  Do I acknowledge that they might be distracted because of pain of some sort or other stimuli? Am I listening to their needs and feelings?  Am I working hard at this every day or am I expecting them to do all the work?

Communication -- clear, patient communication leads to understanding.  Understanding leads to feeling connected.  Feeling connected leads to feelings of intimacy which fosters an environment where love can deepen and grow. 

Yes, that’s where I want to go.

Out of focus?

I love the picture above.  Let me tell you why.  I think the pond on our farm is one of the most relaxing places to hang out.  You hear the breeze blow through the pines, the birds dive around the water looking for bugs and food -- and you occasionally hear the fish plop back into the water as they make a break for the sunshine.   There are no chores at the pond (Okay-- I take that back.  The dock could use a good sanding) that cannot be overlooked for the moments that you spend there. 

The main reason I love the picture though is not just because of its restful setting.  The main reason I love this photo because of how the photo is focused on the foreground.  The photo reminds me -- sometimes the scope of my thinking and perspective is all about what I focus on.

I must admit, lately I've been in a dry spell that has zapped my creative thinking.  Sometimes the ADL's (activities of daily living) of life overwhelm the creative energy that one can have.  It's spring at the farm -- which means there is grass and pastures to be mowed, gardens to plant, weed and tend, and flower beds to cultivate and mulch added to the normal activities of horse stall cleaning, grooming, groundwork and riding, pigeon breeding season and loft management as well as household chores, parenting and feeding my flock.  :)    I am not complaining about any of those activities I just listed for I love each one  (really, I truly don't mind the mowing or stall cleaning) -- it's just that my full life just gets a bit fuller when the weather is beautiful and there is much to be done outside.  I love being outside.

The dry spell surfaces when I don't take the time to be still with my own thoughts, a piece of paper and pencil.  The dry spell comes when my focus is on all the doing and the focus is clear and sharp in that area.   The dry spell stays when I forget that I have the power to zoom in -- or out.  My days add up to the choices I make each day and when I forget to make the choice to focus on creativity -- that is when the creative oasis seems far away.

I once heard the idea that "Good things keep you from the greatest thing."  I have come to tweak and expand that quote a bit -- for my own healthy living.  I say, "Good things can keep you from excellent things." 

None of those things in my list of ADL's are bad.  In fact, they are all good things.  They help out the family and bring me joy in doing them.  However, when I do good things -- and leave no room for expansion -- those good things can keep me from perhaps what might become excellent.  The focus that is now on the foreground -- might be missing something wonderful in the background.

I know if you've read my blog at all in the past two years you find that I think a lot about focus and perspective.  I am growing in that area as I journey along life's path.  I think our perspectives and what we choose to focus on lends us power.  Not power over people -- but power over our lives.  We see choices that we might never have seen before -- or see the ability to make decisions that we never thought we could make.   When I realize there are choices in my journey, it makes me feel liberated and opens up paths I might never have noticed.

The beauty of focus. 

Now do you see why I like the photo?

I can see clearly now....

Today I had my eyes dilated.  

One thing you probably don't know about me is that when I was a toddler I had an eye injury that almost took my sight in my right eye.  Every eye doctor who has looked in my eye since that time has said the same thing, "WOW!  Look at that!  What happened to you?  THAT'S AMAZING -- you are one lucky girl that you can even see anything out of that eye."  They go on and on as they look at the scars and pigment floating inside my eye and the jagged scar across the outer lens of my eye.  Today was no different.

You see, I have vision in both eyes -- not good vision, but I am able to see.  I am GRATEFUL for corrective lenses for without them my world would be one big blur.  When things are blurry and out of focus constantly you end up second guessing yourself, your judgment, your thoughts -- basically everything around you.  Your depth perception is non-existent -- field of vision -- peripheral vision -- nothing is clear.  Your world turns gray and dark as you try to feel your way around -- counting steps -- choosing the familiar.

Today as I stepped out of the ophthalmologist's office all I could think was WOW!  It's a bright, bright world out here! I had to head back into the building to find my sunglasses in my bag, put them on and then head out once again into the brightness of the day.  The thing is today is actually a very cloudy day.  No sunshine, no shadows -- just heavy cloud cover. Most people would say it's a gray overcast day -- yuck.  I might even have said that -- as I went into the office.  Coming out of the office, however, my mindset had completely changed.

Isn't that funny how a single event can change your perspective?  

Maybe you had three choices -- and now only two -- and what was less in your perspective just became more.  Maybe you were almost run over -- and your perspective on life shifted so that you are thankful for living one more day.  Maybe what used to be important -- just faded into the background as you are choosing to live in this moment -- not past moments.  

I know I have spoken a lot about perspective.  That's because mine is changing.  I hope you will bear with me while I share.

There is so much in one's life that can change in an instant.  We tend to gravitate towards those "events" in our lives:  the close calls; the missed calls; the opportunities not taken.  We focus on what could have been rather than what IS.  Today, I want to choose to be grateful for what IS.  Not only do I choose to be grateful for what IS --but WHO is.

I am grateful for those who choose to be present with me.  I am grateful for those who choose to show me that they love me and work to include me in their circle of influence.  I am grateful for those people who respond to my friendship, laugh with me, and spend time with me.  Being grateful for those around me helps keep my focus outward, but I am also learning to be grateful for me.  

Me.  

My thoughts, my feelings, my weirdness.  Me.

Some people would call that narcissism.  Some would call it selfishness.

Others call it self-love.  Positive self-esteem.  Positive regard for oneself.

See, I'm learning to regard myself as someone who counts.  Someone who has worth.  Someone who has value and who might not be like E.F. Hutton, but who might have a nugget here and there to share.  I am learning that there is nothing wrong with thinking such things or saying such things because I still know where I came from and who my Maker is.  Trust me -- learning positive self-talk is not an easy thing for me.  I struggle with self-love.  It's much easier to love others than myself.

I think I need to remember to look at myself through dilated pupils every day.  I need to remember those close calls, but not stop there.  I need to let them open a world of not only what IS, but WHO IS.

The VOID

These words crossed my FB feed one day from the Healing Hugs web page.  Loss.  It comes in all sizes and packages and isn't always about people.  Sometimes we lose things that represent memories in our journey -- those tangible symbols of  a time that was memorable:  good or bad.  Feelings of loss can arrive after realizing the loss of losing something that makes us feel good, like a favorite pair of shoes or jacket.  Feelings of loss happen when connection is lost between two people or pets.  It doesn’t matter what the type of relationship.  There is a void where the connection once was and it's hard to know what in the world to do with that empty space the void creates.

Truly, I don't think the reason for the loss matters.  There could be many different reasons for losing connection.   Temporary loss of connection could be as simple as losing cell phone connection in the middle of a conversation.  It could be the loss you feel when your child goes on a weekend trip or to summer camp; or if your partner is deployed and you know it's going to be a long season of multiple months away causes feelings that connection is lost.  Maybe you stay connected occasionally with friends or family and you haven't heard from them in weeks or months -- a longer period of time than usual -- and that creates a feeling of loss.  There are many other scenarios -- fill in one that comes to your mind that you have experienced.  A temporary loss can be devastating, but one thing differs from permanent loss -- there is the hope and knowledge  that the loss of connection will end.  Your child will come home from camp or the weekend away;  your partner will come home (hopefully safely) at the end of deployment; family members or you yourself will pick up the phone and text or call or write and connection resumes again sometimes even stronger than before.

Long-term loss feels different to me.  It has an underlying foundation of hopelessness.  In terms of long-term loss -- one can hold out hope for a season and sometimes the season is long -- months, years, decades and sometimes a lifetime.  There is hopelessness, but yet a mustard-grain seed of faith keeps some spark alive that things will change and connection will be restored.  This is a hard place to be.  Connection takes two entities and if one is unwilling or unable or the connection didn't mean as much to them as it did to you,  it might be easier for them to move on ahead and fill the space that you once occupied in their mind, their heart, their spirit than for you to do so.  This particular waiting room can be a painful place to reside.  Wondering during the season of un-connectedness can be excruciating.    "What-if land" can be filled with fear, suffering, loss, mourning, and even anger.  Feelings of not being enough are ever present on the surface.   Frustration, anger, and sadness can flow in and out of your emotions when certain memories are triggered and yet, if good memories come to mind, joy and sadness coexist in a way that befuddles the mind. 

Permanent loss is devastating in that there no longer is any hope.  There is no light of reconciliation or re-connection.  Only time can blunt the sharpness of the loss and the time frame is different for everyone depending upon the deepness of your connection.  In this place of darkness, it takes great effort to acknowledge the loss and even more effort to acknowledge the permanence of it.  This path in the shadows of one's journey can change your life.  Some get stuck in this place.  Some stay stuck for awhile and then begin to take tiny shuffle-steps forward out of the darkness and into the shadows of memories gone by.  Over time, one might move forward into the sunshine even just a little bit by focusing not on the loss, but the joy of what once was -- the connection  between two beings that filled you with happiness and joy for even but a part of your journey.  To celebrate the relationship that lasted only for awhile is a gift you can give to yourself.   Acceptance of the closed door named hope is essential to moving out of the shadows and into the light.

 As the quote says above, one of the hard things about loss is what do you do about the empty space the loss of connection leaves behind?  Some people don't want to fill the emptiness.  They feel that focusing on the space that once was filled is a way of keeping the memories alive.   It might seem as though hope is there -- even though the knowledge of reality says differently.  Denial keeps your feet from moving in any direction.  The fight to keep that sacred space empty can cause physical, mental, emotional and spiritual  issues.  Other people in our lives might not be able to understand why keeping the space free of anything else is so important to you and it could wear on other relationships.  

For others, filling the space might be easier.   They just get busy.  They get busy doing whatever it is their calendar can hold.  For some, they might try and throw meds in the hole or drugs at the space or pretend it doesn’t exist.  Some try to sleep it away.  The space can be filled.  It is our choice to choose what to put into the void.  I'm not saying this is easy by any stretch.  It's not.   Sometimes we don't choose arbitrarily.  Sometimes life helps us choose.  Either way, hopefully some day we can look back on that space of connection and name it and cherish it and turn our face toward the sun and life forward in our journey.

Does filling the space mean forgetting?  Absolutely not.    One perspective is that we are lucky to have had experienced something so beautiful along our path and that is why it is so hard to say good-bye.  It is possible to celebrate the lost relationship and fill the space they once held with healthy reminders or activities or new relationships that foster taking care of yourself during this time.    Self-care while spending time in the void is critical to moving ahead into the sunlight.  There also might be others in your sphere of influence who are fellow "void-dwellers" -- those people who are experiencing loss of their own.  Together you might find a safe place to reminisce and celebrate or express the gamut of emotions loss brings.  

Our life journey will bring losses of many types.  My hope is that we can realize that we are not alone on the path.  We just might need to look around for others who have emerged in the shadows or for those who have stepped into the sunlight of their own path to help. 

COMPASS POINT:  There are community groups called Griefshare that focus on paths of loss.   Perhaps they would be of help at this time in your journey.  Here is the link for more information:  www.griefshare.org.

A Unique Perspective

I think about relationships a lot.  We humans are complex beings!  We desire to be loved and be in communion with others and yet at times it seems like there is nothing more challenging than being in relationship with someone else.

I am learning that as I am in relationship with someone else (any type of relationship) no matter how close I get to them, how  much I know them,  how much time I spend with them or how much I want to change their perspective the fact remains that their reality is not my reality.  They come into our connection with their own perceptions, history, thoughts and emotions which leads them to perceive differently than me.

This is a hard lesson to learn because often I think that being loved and accepted equates the need to agree with me and see things from my perspective.   I am learning that there is no sweeter love than to be in relationship with someone and to not have to agree or see things from the same vantage point.

Why is it that I equate love with agreement?  Why do I often feel that if someone doesn't agree with me that they don't like me?  At times, why have I at times put up walls around me shutting out those that don't agree with me?  Do I make others feel unloved when I don't agree with them?  These are hard questions that have been swirling around in my mind.

I hope that I convey an air of wanting to understand as different viewpoints are shared.  I hope that the basic love I have for another human comes shining through as I listen.  I hope that I validate what they are saying and aim for understanding their perspective.  I also hope that I am able to convey my thoughts without excuse or persuasion.

There is a vulnerability and intimacy in relationships where thoughts, feelings and logic can be shared openly while coexisting with an underlying foundation of seeking to understand.  It's amazing to me the freedom that comes with a place of feeling totally loved and accepted, yet not agreed with.  One feels as though they are accepted for who they are and there is a freedom to be who you are without masks or cover-ups.  In life there is usually more than one perspective and recognizing that truth helps us to remember -- one perspective doesn't have to be right and the other wrong.

Acceptance does not mean agreement.  In this instance, acceptance does mean that you can be in the same room with someone , engage in conversation with them, even hang out and do things with them and you don't have to support their viewpoint.  Acceptance means that you can love someone -- even LIKE  them and come from two different directions on an issue.

Mary Anne Radmacher in her book Live Boldly tells this story.   "When my friends Suze and Jonathan got married, I gave them an unusual gift - a pair of opera glasses outfitted with prisms instead of long-distance lenses.  I told them to use these glasses when they were having a disagreement.  Why?  Because a prism provides so many different images of a single view.  It is a literal reminder that while one thing may be the subject of the argument, there can be so many different ways of looking at it." (C 2008 by mary anne radmacher:  pg 21)

I love that tangible picture.  Now when someone disagrees with me, I am reminded to hold their perspective up to the prism -- and not feel threatened or afraid that my perspective is wrong.  It's just one way of thinking about it out of many.

Sometimes you gotta go

Every day I head outside at some point and look for my two horses.  Usually they aren't in the paddock or barn unless it is raining or snowing.  Usually they are in the pasture doing what they love to do -- eat.  

Now let me tell you a bit about my two four legged friends.  They both are geldings.  For you who are non-horse people  -- that means they are male.  They are older than 15 years.  We don't have paperwork on them and bought them from people who didn't raise them -- so with horses it's a guess of age by looking at physical signs.  That being said -- they have been around a few years.  We rescued Ryker last fall on our honeymoon.  He came to us starved -- about 400 pounds or more underweight and hungry.  VERY hungry.  We started loving on him, which for him meant feeding him.   I spent time with him, groomed him, and took him on walks on a lead rope.   It was weeks before I tried to get on his back.  He lacked muscle tone and stability.  Over time, he started to gain weight and I started exercising with him (basically he trotted -- I jogged beside him).  He was my buddy and always looked for me.  When I called -- he would come in an instant because my presence equated food.  

Enter Casanova onto the scene a few months later.  He is a paint mix breed.  Beautiful and stout and in great shape.  He quickly made friends with Ryker -- and now they are best buddies and don't like to be separated in any way -- especially in the pastures or on the trail or even if I am working with one -- the other is calling "Where are you???" from the stall.

So lately, as I go out to greet them and give them a little grain and a little loving each day -- I find that sometimes  Ryker doesn't come right away any more.   After a year of good feeding and exercise, Ryker has gained his weight back and is able to carry extra weight and be ridden.   I find that when I call, he doesn't come as readily.  In my opinion, he acts as though he is content with his pasture and friend and doesn't  seem to "need" my extra attention (as I try to personalize his behaviour).  Nevertheless, on those days when he hears me, and looks at me from across the pastureland and acknowledges me, but doesn't start moving towards me -- I call again and wait.  Then I call one more time and wait.  Some days, it just takes a second call.  Some days, it takes a third call.  Some days, he doesn't come at all -- and I go out to him.

I go out to him.  

Now some people would say -- that horse should come to you every time.  And part of me believes that.  But part of me says - why should he have to come to me all the time?  Why shouldn't I show him that I want to be with him -- and put forth the effort?  So on those days, I do put forth the effort.  I head out with a handful of grain or a carrot or just a smile and friendly words and find him wherever he might be.

As I have been thinking of good friendships and relationships this week, it struck me that if I want people in my life, I need to go to them.  But also, they need to come to me.  Healthy relationships don't end when one person stops being needy.  I believe both people can be healthy and still keep compromising, still reach for one another's presence in order to stay connected.  If we want someone in our life, we can't expect them to do all the reaching, nor can we do all the reaching.  It takes effort on both sides.  

Now, what would happen if I never made the effort to go out to the pasture?  Ryker would be fine with his grass.  He would be happy with his buddy Casanova and their relationship.  But our connection over time would fade if he didn't make the effort to see me or I didn't make the effort to see him.  Life would move on -- but a friendship would be lost.

Time to head out to the pasture...and find my friend.

Why do we avoid endings?

This week I have been thinking about endings.  I have been wondering a few things so I will put them in first person:  one -- why do I struggle finalizing the end of things -- projects, papers, tasks, et cetera?  two -- why do I think there is something still left to salvage when there is a clear need for more??  three -- why do I not like to say good-bye?  four -- why do I fear endings?

I find it hard to finalize projects because in my mind there is always more -- more to learn, more to perfect, more to strive for, more to write, more to think, more to discuss, more to catch..fill in the blank, more.  It's not the thought that it's not good enough - there is just MORE.  I can hold that note longer, have more resonance, find the perfect piece of art for that spot, make the recipe a little better, gain more confidence, find the connection more deeply....there is always MORE.

There is a part of me that doesn't think on empty -- I look at a glass with a few swallows of water in it as a waitress comes by and asks if I want more -- and I think to myself -- no, my glass isn't empty!  I don't need a refill yet.  It's the same feeling with leftovers -- if there is anything left - why make something new until you have eaten what is left from before?  If there is one more paper on that notepad...don't throw it away -- use it before you open a new one.  One more tissue - one more squeeze of toothpaste...you get the idea.

I find it hard to finalize projects because in my mind there is always more -- more to learn, more to perfect, more to strive for, more to write, more to think, more to discuss, more to catch..fill in the blank, more.  It's not the thought that it's not good enough - there is just MORE.  I can hold that note longer, have more resonance, find the perfect piece of art for that spot, make the recipe a little better....there is always MORE.

Then my mind goes to good-byes.  I would rather say "See you soon!"  "See you later!"  "Until next time!" than say "Good-bye!".  This is something I am noticing in myself that I wonder about.  Good-bye seems final.  Good-byes to people that I love, are just plain hard.  Closing down my studio time after time of moving from place to place to start again has been just plain hard.  Seeing friendships wax and wane -- is a form of good-bye and is hard.  Remember those seasons of life I spoke of in earlier posts? Sometimes, I want the season for a lifetime -- my lifetime.  Not the natural lifetime of the other person, thing, flower...et cetera.  I ask myself -- is it selfish of me to not want things to end?  Or am I afraid?

Maybe I don't like endings because I am a natural born planner (working on spontaneity in my life) and I can't foresee or forecast the next leg of the journey.  The unknown paralyzes for a time -- until it is known...and then most of the time once I have moved into the next phase I say to myself - see?  This isn't so bad!  In fact, it's better than expected! Maybe my fear of the unknown keeps me from ending things that should have been ended long ago -- like me hanging onto certain projects that haven't been finished for years  that are stored in tubs in the basement.  Or I think about that book I still have next to my bed that I don't want to shelve because I haven't finished it but yet I pick up other books to read instead of reaching for that one night after night.  Endings.  Hmmmm....

Maybe this is what my new approach should be when it comes to good-byes or endings.  Maybe I need to replace my fear-based thinking with possibility-based thinking.  I need to remind myself that with every ending a beginning starts.

If I think in beginnings...and look forward to beginnings...then maybe the endings won't be so scary.

Unwillingness

I remember the days of Junior High Science class taught by Mr. Fry.  Now, in my expert middle school mind Mr. Fry was not hip in the 80's.  If I remember correctly, he wore plaid pants from the 70's and white shirts every day.  He carried pens in his front shirt pocket.  He was not the handsomest of men.  He had a funny way of walking/hopping/striding about the front of the room when teaching.  His voice was shrill and I wouldn't call him a gentle spirit.   However unusual Mr. Fry was  as a human being in my perception, Mr. Fry changed the path of my life.  I am forever grateful to him.

I was a pretty good student...mostly A's and B's...usually A's back in the day...until Junior High Science class.  For some reason, I went into a slump and was not excelling.  I was interested in music and boys and exciting classes like Enrichment Class where I got to study and research things I was interested in such as horses (always a love in my life).  Science, to me at the time, had no connection to what I was going to do or needed to learn.  Mr. Fry, as unusual as he was in his teaching style, didn't keep my attention and I became despondent in class not showing much effort.

At that time we were studying a unit on geology.  Now, I love nature.  I love being outside more than inside.  I love enjoying all that God created on this earth.  But rocks?  Come on.  What is interesting about rocks?  Mind you, these weren't gemstones.  They were your basic rocks you might find in your driveway or garden.  The test for the unit was coming fast and we were to recognize 50 different types of rocks by sight and know their class and name and specifications.  You might not know this about me, but I am horrible at memorizing things.  Even to this day, I struggle with that part of my mind.   Memorizing the material seemed like an impossible task and I wasn't trying as hard as I could have.

I was slumped in my seat, not really listening in class when Mr. Fry stopped beside me.  He looked at me and said, "Miss Hancock, you are your own worst enemy.  If you think you can't do something you will never be able to do it."  YIKES!  Singled out among my fellow students, called by name and I felt like my fortune was read!  I was humiliated and angry and slumped further in my seat, but that day a seed was planted.  The seed was...someone saw potential in me to succeed  and I didn't see it within myself.  I had given up on myself.  I had written my own path and had chosen the road of unwillingness.  Mr. Fry, for all intents and purposes became a catalyst to change.  Something within me was challenged to not give up when he singled me out and I wanted to prove him differently.

I searched for ways of memorizing those rocks.  I made index cards, lists and studied and to no avail...I could not remember more than 10-12 of the rocks.  I got the idea to put the rocks and their information to music.   The song I chose was "Over the Rainbow" from the Wizard of Oz (as it was very popular back then and I had taped it on my recorder and listened to it a million times).  The test came and the identification process started....rocks 1-50.  Amazingly...I got an A on that test....my original arrangement of the song afforded my brain the right language to memorize the facts.  I was stunned.  Mr. Fry was ecstatic and gave me the "I told you so" speech...this time celebrating my success in front of everyone. 

I learned something that day.  I learned a valuable life lesson.  I have the power within me to create my path but it takes a willingness.  Being willing is a choice.  It's not genetic.  It's not bred into us.  It is a choice we have when we are faced with things we don't want to learn or do or tackle in this life.  Willingness is a mindset that will afford us the opportunity to learn things we never thought we could.  Willingness is a mindset that affects my courage to try new things.  Willingness is a mindset that affects my entire life. 

Thanks, Mr. Fry.  I am deeply grateful for what you taught me that day.

Humanness

I must admit something out loud today.  On paper. 

I am HUMAN.

I am "imperfect, flawed and ordinary" - in the words of Trudy Archambeau.

Therefore, I make mistakes.  I mess up.  I sin.  I err.  I fail and fail miserably.

It's another one of those things I have learned about myself and for some reason at times it is VERY hard to admit.

Being human sometimes looks like me beating myself up over bad choices I have made.  Being human sometimes looks like me doing the happy dance (with little coordination) celebrating a good choice I have made.  Being human means realizing when I have come to the end of myself and I CAN'T.  (Not that I won't try -- cause I was wired to try and try and try again.)  Can't = the realization that whatever I am attempting is beyond my capabilities (like lifting 100 pound bags of anything).

In my life I have had plenty of time to look back at past choices (good and bad)  and see the path that came from making them.  I can trace how my life path changed because of this or that action.  I can look back and feel sadness or joy.  Either one makes me contemplate.  I will be very honest here and say that I have a tendency to focus on the negative choices I have made over the years.   I wonder what life would be like if I hadn't made the choices I have.  Some decisions were "worse" than others in my mind...but alas, that is the human speaking in me.  Errors are errors.  There is no small or big error.  It's an error.  Good choices are good choices.  Bad choices are bad choices. 

In wanting to be healthy and move forward in my life, I need to remember not to" cling to the past mistakes no matter how much time I spent making them" (Dr. Laura).  I see the mistake.  I know the mistake.  I lived the mistake.  I chose the mistake.  I acknowledge my part of them.  I even confess and take responsibility  (whatever that might look like) for my choice.  Then, I need to remember -- LOOK FORWARD and MOVE ON working at not to repeating the same mistake.  I can't cling to the mistake I made 25 years ago -- if I did how healthy would I be?  I wouldn't be healthy at all.  I believe nothing is gained from reliving the past over and over and over.  So that being said, I am learning there is a time and place, alas, a season for everything. (Ecclesiastes 3 - or in the days of the old 45's - I would play that record over and over - the  song Turn! Turn! Turn! By THE BYRDS). 

There is a time for everything.  EVERYTHING.  That means the opposite of my previous paragraphs are true.  I can't dwell on past choices that have brought me joy either.  I can't cling to them...and hold them in high esteem and not move forward.  I cannot relive the past and be stuck in that one grand moment.  It is time for new thoughts.  New experiences.  New horizons.  New joys.  New paths created by my choices or making good choices to stay on the same path.  I need to acknowledge my part in them.  Confess them.  Acknowledge they are a part of my life path and MOVE ON.

For me, growth looks like accepting my humanness...the negative AND the positive.