Is That a Cat In There?

In the past few months, I’ve become obsessed with podcasts, and one of my current favorites is Gretchen Rubin’s Happier. I love her books, and the podcast is chock full of her simple, commonsense, non-woo-woo-even-though-I-really-like-woo-woo-too suggestions to live happier. Make your bed, for instance, embrace good smells, do simple tasks right now instead of putting them off. Lots of quick easy ways to add a little more happiness to your day.

Yesterday, her suggestion might have changed my life. She said, “Give yourself permission to stop reading books you don’t enjoy.” I was currently slogging through a book that I really didn’t like. But I have a hard time quitting a book. A really hard time. When I finally gave  up on Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking, I had a psychic crisis. How can I hate this book and still consider myself a writer? What is wrong with me that this amazing author doesn’t inspire me? Well … nothing. You don’t click with everyone, and Joan Didion and I didn’t click.

So I stopped pushing myself to embrace something I wasn’t really into and allowed myself to enjoy something that made my heart sing. And that felt amazing.

And that is what this year is about for me. I didn’t make any resolutions because, it’s so much darn pressure and then I get overwhelmed and crawl into my shell with chips and chocolate and darkness surrounds me and … it’s ugly. However, I did set some goals, and one of them was to give more energy to people and activities that bring me joy.

Fortunately, the universe responded by bringing some fabulous, inspiring, loving, wonderful NEW people into my life. Since I was already surrounded by fabulous, inspiring, loving and wonderful people, this seemed like a crazy bonus.

But I have to remind myself to shift my energy all the time … especially lately in terms of my kids growing up. For so long we’re celebrating firsts that before you know it you are clinging to one last after another. Those lasts can be gut-wrenching if you dwell on them.

My kids are never gonna be babies again. Chloe will never twist my hair around her finger and Peyton won’t ask me to take my earrings out so he can rub my ear to fall asleep. Lily still snuggles, but there are no more naps on my shoulder.

Focusing too much energy on those things makes me put the cat in a sling and bounce him around while hot tears splash on his head. Disclaimer: I do carry the cat around in an infinity scarf, but he’s old, and well, I’m not going to try to justify that. I own my eccentricity.

You get it though. It’s sad to think about all that has gone by in a heartbeat. I had to answer a questionnaire about Peyton’s college choices, and even as a tall, lanky teenager stood in front of me, I saw a chubby, curly-haired, dimpled baby snuggled in my lap.

So, I can cry all over the cat or I can shift my focus from what was to what is. And, if I really need to cheer up, what will be. Yes, he was a precious baby, and today he’s a cool, funny kid, and tomorrow who knows.

Lately Brad is gone a lot for work. Sometimes it feels overwhelming. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep on Sunday night because I don’t want our weekend to be over. But instead of dwelling on that, I try to focus on the time he is here and make our weekends mini-vacations when we only do fun things and spend quality time together.

So, I’m looking for more suggestions. I wonder: How do you shift your perspective? What simple things do you do to add a little happy to your day? Do you force yourself to finish books you are hating? And are any of you doing the Daniel Fast this year? I gave myself permission not to, and it’s pretty fabulous I must say.

Oh, and what are your favorite podcasts? I LOVE: This American Life, Magic Lessons, Serial, Dear Sugar, Strangers, Happier, Detective…

Dichotomy Isn’t a Dirty Word

We all have images in our heads of other people … who they are based on how they act, what they say, and now, what they post on various social media outlets.

A lot of people know things about me without really knowing me. Sometimes they use those things they know to comment on who they think I am. For instance, some people say I’m fake because I used togo to church, but I also drink beer, say fuck, and support marriage equality and reproductive freedom. Some person said I favor my daughters over my son because I never post pictures of him on social media. The simple truth of that is: My girls like pictures; my boy does not. But, I am busy trying to make my little space in the universe happy, so people can talk. What they say about me isn’t my business.

Conversely, I think I know stuff about others based on the same things. I really do try to get to know people though. I like to listen to their stories, find out what makes them tick. I think people are fascinating, actually. Cats too. In fact, I like cats more than most people.

But I find it is hard to know people because many of us don’t even really know ourselves that well. I feel like we begin to know who we are when we question the limiting beliefs that keep us stuck in a cycle of self-recrimination. Each time we peel back  a layer of who our family of origin, teachers, or society told us we were or should be, we get closer to knowing our true self. Pushing past what we were told we ought to do, couldn’t be or would never amount to and seeing what untapped potential rests in our core waiting to be acknowledged and unleashed is a wonderful and challenging journey.

Whoever we are and whatever our reason for being, life is a precious and fulfilling gift. We get to love and be loved, inspire and be inspired, encourage and be encouraged. Each moment brings opportunities to choose love, compassion, kindness, patience, forgiveness. Lots of times, I don’t make the best choice. But with each breath, each moment, each day, we get another chance to make a better choice.

I read a quote the other day that said: Don’t start today with the broken pieces of yesterday. Of course, I couldn’t find the author, but what a great sentiment. I have carried so much baggage around for so long. And while I could have just chosen to put it down long ago, that isn’t what I do. I have to unpack everything and examine it all before choosing to find a place for it in my life or throw it in the trash. 

And a lot of it goes right in the trash. Like that one box…the one you keep moving from apartment, to condo, to house, to house. You keep bringing it with you, but you never unpack it. You don’t really even know what’s in it because the sharpie writing wore off years ago. Then one day you open it, and it’s a bunch of unwanted items you’d planned to donate years ago, but you got sidetracked. At this point, I want to kick myself wondering Why have I been carrying this box around all these years? It’s useless. I don’t want any of it. I could have gotten rid of it years ago.

It’s the same with so much crap from our past. Sometimes, we just have to open up the box and look at the crazy stuff in there to realize how preposterous it is to keep carrying it around. But then we can throw it in the trash and move on.

My box was pretty full. It’s taken lots of years, and I’m still unpacking things. It’s getting lighter.