Wednesday, June 19, 2013
The Meaning of Life...
I know I’ve already told you about the summer I spent selling books door-to-door in Cincinnati Ohio – one of the best and worst summers ever. But, what I didn’t tell you is that THAT summer was the first summer that I thought about the meaning of life; MY meaning of life. One morning I found myself walking on this remote, long, hilly, paved road lined with full, towering, dark green, almost-mystical looking trees. My mind raced between ‘spectacularly beautiful’ and ‘someone could kill me out here and no one would know’. I fell in love with that road and started walking it every morning; because no one wanted a book salesman to knock on their door at 8:00, right? Eventually, the pavement ended and I landed at a small baseball field a few miles out of town. I hung-out on the empty bleachers, almost daily, for hours. Sometimes I’d stretch out and sleep, often I’d write letters or pray the Rosary or talk out loud about what I thought was important. I named my first child on those bleachers…long before I met her daddy. I spent time with myself and questioned who I was and what I stood for; since I should have been knocking on doors instead of squandering my time on far away, empty baseball bleachers. I broke a lot of rules that summer, told some lies too, and began my journey to find out who I was meant to become.
I still think about that summer. I don’t remember much about the books I sold, or the area of town I worked in. I didn’t get to go to the zoo, or the stadium, or even a museum. I did sneak off to explore the waterfront and downtown one day, but other than that, I don’t remember very much about my time in Cincinnati; but I do remember almost ALL of the people I met. At that point in my life, I liked everyone and judged no one. I was comfortable in my skin, had nothing to prove, and believed everyone was good and trustworthy. I got pictures with businessmen, a street gang, a hot-dog vendor named Sam. I hopped on a boat with a bunch of strangers without a care in the world. I met an elderly couple who honestly changed my life, and I spent lots of time chatting with stay-at-home moms. I babysat neighbor’s kids, organized a few backyard kick-ball games, and built some awesome memories. And, I discovered that I liked talking and walking and thinking more than I liked selling books. That summer, I was where I needed to be, I just didn’t realize it then, but I know it now.
I’ve spent the better part of my 40s searching for my “passion”, feeling like there is more to life than what I’m experiencing. I’ve yearned for something to fulfill me, challenge me, and make me better. I’ve read books, measured myself against other’s ethics, tried to re-create myself so I could be happy and settled and satisfied. But, I am already created perfectly in the eyes of my God, and my work fills a need in the world, therefore, I am doing what I should be doing. It’s not about what I do anyway; MY meaning of life is about the people I meet; to embrace and nurture the relationships that occur while I’m doing what I do, because THAT is what I’ll remember anyway. I didn’t realize it before, but I know it now.
Margaret
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Sweet Motherhood
Being a mother is BIG! I mean, it just doesn’t get any more amazing than birthing a baby! One minute you’re just you – a wife maybe, a daughter, a lover, a friend…and the next second, BAM! you’re a mother. Seriously, you go from agony to awe in a nanosecond. You learn an entirely new kind of love the moment you hold the tiny life that developed and grew and lived inside of you. You never again think or plan or do anything without first considering its effect on your baby. It’s like your life takes a back seat to the life that you’ve created. And that's okay.
A few years later you’ve birthed all your babies and fallen completely in love with each of them in that magical, unimaginable, crazy-to-understand kind of way. You know how they each think, how they feel, how they react, what they like, what they’ll do…. You know them completely. You talk to them and teach them and cook for them and do their laundry and drive them around and meet their friends and go to their events and tuck them into bed and answer their questions and kiss them always. You talk about boys and beer and bras; moods and manners and money; parties and picnics and play practice. You teach them to shave. They need you. You need them.
You worry – even if you’re not a worrier, you worry about your kids. You worry they’ll hang with the wrong crowd, make poor decisions, eat the wrong foods or hurt someone’s feelings. You worry they won’t make a team; or that they will. You worry about illness, injury, nutrition, and germs. You worry they’ll get hurt, get angry, or get bullied. And all this time you’re thinking and worrying and caring for your kids, you’re not doing things for yourself.
You put off getting new glasses so you can use that money on MAYB tournament fees. You put off your mammogram (just for a few months) because you just can’t find time in your schedule to go. You put off your much needed vacation or the pricy theater tickets or dinner out. You buy new clothes, but not for yourself. You add days to your work schedule...
And, if you had it to do all over again, you wouldn’t change anything, except that you’d cherish it more and enjoy it more and value it more. You’d feel a little pang when you remember how upset you were when your fresh baby cried and cried at night when all you wanted was a little bit of sleep. You’d feel a bit of guilt as you recall throwing back the covers and stomping to the nursery to find the most adorable baby wanting you. You’d happily redo those moments and revere the warmth of your baby’s breath on your neck or the smell of their freshly bathed skin. You’d sit up later watching movies with your tween or playing videogames into the wee hours of the night, just to take part in what your child loves. Heck, you might even go paintballing.
Yes, if I had it to do all over again, I’d do it all over again, with a little more gusto.
Margaret
A few years later you’ve birthed all your babies and fallen completely in love with each of them in that magical, unimaginable, crazy-to-understand kind of way. You know how they each think, how they feel, how they react, what they like, what they’ll do…. You know them completely. You talk to them and teach them and cook for them and do their laundry and drive them around and meet their friends and go to their events and tuck them into bed and answer their questions and kiss them always. You talk about boys and beer and bras; moods and manners and money; parties and picnics and play practice. You teach them to shave. They need you. You need them.
You worry – even if you’re not a worrier, you worry about your kids. You worry they’ll hang with the wrong crowd, make poor decisions, eat the wrong foods or hurt someone’s feelings. You worry they won’t make a team; or that they will. You worry about illness, injury, nutrition, and germs. You worry they’ll get hurt, get angry, or get bullied. And all this time you’re thinking and worrying and caring for your kids, you’re not doing things for yourself.
You put off getting new glasses so you can use that money on MAYB tournament fees. You put off your mammogram (just for a few months) because you just can’t find time in your schedule to go. You put off your much needed vacation or the pricy theater tickets or dinner out. You buy new clothes, but not for yourself. You add days to your work schedule...
And, if you had it to do all over again, you wouldn’t change anything, except that you’d cherish it more and enjoy it more and value it more. You’d feel a little pang when you remember how upset you were when your fresh baby cried and cried at night when all you wanted was a little bit of sleep. You’d feel a bit of guilt as you recall throwing back the covers and stomping to the nursery to find the most adorable baby wanting you. You’d happily redo those moments and revere the warmth of your baby’s breath on your neck or the smell of their freshly bathed skin. You’d sit up later watching movies with your tween or playing videogames into the wee hours of the night, just to take part in what your child loves. Heck, you might even go paintballing.
Yes, if I had it to do all over again, I’d do it all over again, with a little more gusto.
Margaret
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Defining Moment
I remember a few defining moments in my life: my first ‘real’ kiss, an extraordinary conversation with my grandmother, a diagnosis, a car accident, my wedding day, my children’s birthdays…and a matter-of-factly stated comment from a colleague at a recent after-work get together…
“You’re so negative; always complaining about something”; complete with a tiny hand shrug and eye-roll.
I was caught off-guard, I mean, I had a right to be negative – I’d just gotten screwed out of a…(maybe I shouldn’t mention that here)! Even so, I was affected. I thought about that comment all evening…and the next…and the next. I recalled my previous conversations and discussions and interactions, I remembered my attitudes and auras. I had been focused on some specific actions at work and at home that I was upset about. I do drop the f-bomb a lot, am short tempered more often, and I let my house go (not too much) - a very telling sign that I’m out of sync. But, am I THAT negative? Do I complain THAT much? Apparently the answer is “yes”.
So, what do I do about it now? How do I get out of that funk? Do I just stop being honest about my feelings and interpretations? Stop fighting for what I believe in? Stop asking tough questions? Do I lower my expectations? Accept mediocrity? How can I go back to positive and fun?
If you’ve read my other blogs, you know I believe that perspective is reality; you believe what you perceive. I also believe that negativity breeds negativity and I have apparently gotten caught up in that action. So, I need to change my reality. Life is a mixed blessing and I will look past the negative in my life (schedule, finances, job), and revel in the good things happening around me.
Your brain believes what your mouth tells it; and I will tell mine great things!
Peace,
Margaret
“You’re so negative; always complaining about something”; complete with a tiny hand shrug and eye-roll.
I was caught off-guard, I mean, I had a right to be negative – I’d just gotten screwed out of a…(maybe I shouldn’t mention that here)! Even so, I was affected. I thought about that comment all evening…and the next…and the next. I recalled my previous conversations and discussions and interactions, I remembered my attitudes and auras. I had been focused on some specific actions at work and at home that I was upset about. I do drop the f-bomb a lot, am short tempered more often, and I let my house go (not too much) - a very telling sign that I’m out of sync. But, am I THAT negative? Do I complain THAT much? Apparently the answer is “yes”.
So, what do I do about it now? How do I get out of that funk? Do I just stop being honest about my feelings and interpretations? Stop fighting for what I believe in? Stop asking tough questions? Do I lower my expectations? Accept mediocrity? How can I go back to positive and fun?
If you’ve read my other blogs, you know I believe that perspective is reality; you believe what you perceive. I also believe that negativity breeds negativity and I have apparently gotten caught up in that action. So, I need to change my reality. Life is a mixed blessing and I will look past the negative in my life (schedule, finances, job), and revel in the good things happening around me.
Your brain believes what your mouth tells it; and I will tell mine great things!
Peace,
Margaret
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Change Your Focus
As the New Year approaches, I find myself thinking about where I am and where I’m headed and where I want to eventually land in my life. I do this every year – I make inspirations to improve; to prioritize my actions and control my thoughts to become a better person. In the past I’ve inspired to do everything from cussing less to exercising more to having better sex. I’ve vowed to only say positive things and to find the good in all. But this year my focus has changed. This year, I find myself thinking more about me and less about everyone else. And I think, as a 40-something woman who wears VERY many ‘hats’, that thinking about what I want and what I need is both difficult and necessary on my journey to a healthy, happy, fulfilling life.
When I was younger, I was confident and goofy and loud and daring and spontaneous and fun. I was definitely my own person. I knew what I wanted and I was fine going for it! I continued that way through most of college then hit a snag in early adulthood. I’m not exactly sure when I realized that everyone didn’t think what I thought; didn’t see what I saw; didn’t care about what I cared about. At some point, I began to understand that I wasn’t as important as I thought I was, and no matter how much I tried to make the world work the way I knew it should, it simply didn’t matter. That realization broke me a little bit. I became less comfortable and less confident and more frustrated and angry and stressed. And I didn’t know how to be happy again. I lost my focus. And I think that happens to all of us at some point.
I think we get caught up doing all the things we have to do to take care of our families, our neighbors, our churches, our pets and our friends, that we sometimes forget to take care of ourselves. It’s not that we regret doing things for others; it’s just that we neglect to do what we love; and that affects us greatly! I started to resent my awesome life because I wasn't doing anything I loved. I wasn’t doing any of the things that made me ME before I got married. So, I changed my focus.
Last October, I bought a season ticket to the theater despite the hefty price tag (I’ve always wanted to go). I spend most Sunday’s in Kansas City because that’s where I need to be. I’m saving for a trip to New York City - the one place I really want to visit.
In 2013 I'm going to: stick to my budget, pray more genuinely, join a book club, have more movie nights, and wear matching pajamas.
I challenge you to rediscover yourself this New Year. Choose a few things you love and make them happen!
Margaret
When I was younger, I was confident and goofy and loud and daring and spontaneous and fun. I was definitely my own person. I knew what I wanted and I was fine going for it! I continued that way through most of college then hit a snag in early adulthood. I’m not exactly sure when I realized that everyone didn’t think what I thought; didn’t see what I saw; didn’t care about what I cared about. At some point, I began to understand that I wasn’t as important as I thought I was, and no matter how much I tried to make the world work the way I knew it should, it simply didn’t matter. That realization broke me a little bit. I became less comfortable and less confident and more frustrated and angry and stressed. And I didn’t know how to be happy again. I lost my focus. And I think that happens to all of us at some point.
I think we get caught up doing all the things we have to do to take care of our families, our neighbors, our churches, our pets and our friends, that we sometimes forget to take care of ourselves. It’s not that we regret doing things for others; it’s just that we neglect to do what we love; and that affects us greatly! I started to resent my awesome life because I wasn't doing anything I loved. I wasn’t doing any of the things that made me ME before I got married. So, I changed my focus.
Last October, I bought a season ticket to the theater despite the hefty price tag (I’ve always wanted to go). I spend most Sunday’s in Kansas City because that’s where I need to be. I’m saving for a trip to New York City - the one place I really want to visit.
In 2013 I'm going to: stick to my budget, pray more genuinely, join a book club, have more movie nights, and wear matching pajamas.
I challenge you to rediscover yourself this New Year. Choose a few things you love and make them happen!
Margaret
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Forever Friendships
I’ve been cleaning out and organizing the past few weeks and I came across all my old Christmas letters and pictures. After the holidays, I can’t bring myself to throw away those treasures, so I stash them in gallon size zip-lock bags to eventually put in scrapbooks. Needless-to-say, I can no longer deny that times have changed and I have aged! It was such a wonderful afternoon.
I have so many great moments that connect me with so many great people; even though we don't see each other much (if ever) now, we are forever friends. I remember shopping, gossiping, cooking out, long phone conversations, road trips, and progressive dinner parties. I remember crying over break-ups together, sneaking out of our houses together, and getting into trouble together. I remember card games, mud fights, Pictionary, pizza, and long study sessions. I remember dancing and laughing and doing stupid things in the middle of the night. I remember walks, work outs, and sipping wine on the front porch. We were in each other’s weddings, we decorated each other’s homes; picked out curtains and clocks and comforters. We cleaned and organized each other’s cabinets. We celebrated milestones, comforted each other’s crying babies, diagnosed rashes, shared recipes and delivered perfectly timed batches of homemade cookies. We discussed politics, religion, finances and vacation spots. We shared babysitters, photographers, and favorite books. We attended graduations, ballgames, fund-raisers, and surprise birthday parties. We mourned lost loved ones. We were there for each other, always, while it lasted. We moved, got new jobs, bought new homes, and got too busy. We may or may not have had hurt feelings, misunderstandings, or disagreements over trivial details, but the memories are still there and still fresh and clear and fun and important and special. I’ve told some of you things that I may never tell anyone else again.
It’s neat to think that for those short weeks, months, or years we were in similar places in our lives that allowed us to share time and build great memories and strong friendships. Currently, our friendships may be more in my mind then in our lives, but still, I remember and I enjoy and I cherish those moments we shared. Even though I don’t see you, I’m connected to you forever, and for that, I am grateful.
Margaret
I have so many great moments that connect me with so many great people; even though we don't see each other much (if ever) now, we are forever friends. I remember shopping, gossiping, cooking out, long phone conversations, road trips, and progressive dinner parties. I remember crying over break-ups together, sneaking out of our houses together, and getting into trouble together. I remember card games, mud fights, Pictionary, pizza, and long study sessions. I remember dancing and laughing and doing stupid things in the middle of the night. I remember walks, work outs, and sipping wine on the front porch. We were in each other’s weddings, we decorated each other’s homes; picked out curtains and clocks and comforters. We cleaned and organized each other’s cabinets. We celebrated milestones, comforted each other’s crying babies, diagnosed rashes, shared recipes and delivered perfectly timed batches of homemade cookies. We discussed politics, religion, finances and vacation spots. We shared babysitters, photographers, and favorite books. We attended graduations, ballgames, fund-raisers, and surprise birthday parties. We mourned lost loved ones. We were there for each other, always, while it lasted. We moved, got new jobs, bought new homes, and got too busy. We may or may not have had hurt feelings, misunderstandings, or disagreements over trivial details, but the memories are still there and still fresh and clear and fun and important and special. I’ve told some of you things that I may never tell anyone else again.
It’s neat to think that for those short weeks, months, or years we were in similar places in our lives that allowed us to share time and build great memories and strong friendships. Currently, our friendships may be more in my mind then in our lives, but still, I remember and I enjoy and I cherish those moments we shared. Even though I don’t see you, I’m connected to you forever, and for that, I am grateful.
Margaret
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
College Drop-Off
Last Sunday I dropped my child off at college. I felt pretty prepared for the transition. We’d been making lists, stockpiling necessities, planning colors and decorations and storage and snacks for weeks. We’d washed bedding and towels, bought new tires, purchased books, signed loans, and budgeted savings. It was fun. I was proud and nervous and excited for my daughter to fly; and she was ready.
I saw a lot of other mothers dropping off their children at college that day. They were dressed in work clothes, hair pulled up, sweating it on the stairs with boxes and bags and microwaves. I was right there with them! I witnessed many hugs doled out in doorways and hallways and parking lots. I could feel the anticipation mounting. As the day went on, I felt less prepared to leave my precious child in her tiny new home decorated with crates and shelves and a futon. I watched as she found crevices for her backpack, her make-up, her jewelry and her extra sweatshirts. She brought too many tee-shirts, but shoved them all into the drawer anyway. She was making it work, embracing everything.
I took a moment to soak it all in. I noticed how long her hair had gotten, and how it bounced when she walked. I was pleased with her straight smile that cost a small fortune. I listened to her laugh while she organized her books on a shelf. She was happy. I remembered a younger Jessica, determined to become a dancer, teacher, scientist, songwriter…
“Mom, I have to go.” I wasn’t quite ready. Quick hugs for everyone, “I love you” and she was off. I watched her walk away from me. I felt unfinished, incomplete, awkward almost. I thought our goodbye would be longer, full of meaningful words of wisdom. It happened so fast. She disappeared around the corner and that was it. I made it out of the dorm, but then I just stood there, tears streaming. I felt like I didn’t hold her long enough; like I didn't hold her tight enough. It was a feeling I'll never forget, and I'm not even sure what it was. It wasn't sadness, or anger, or depression. I think it was love. I think it was the feeling that encompasses the phrase "love sucks", because at that moment, it did.
Margaret
I saw a lot of other mothers dropping off their children at college that day. They were dressed in work clothes, hair pulled up, sweating it on the stairs with boxes and bags and microwaves. I was right there with them! I witnessed many hugs doled out in doorways and hallways and parking lots. I could feel the anticipation mounting. As the day went on, I felt less prepared to leave my precious child in her tiny new home decorated with crates and shelves and a futon. I watched as she found crevices for her backpack, her make-up, her jewelry and her extra sweatshirts. She brought too many tee-shirts, but shoved them all into the drawer anyway. She was making it work, embracing everything.
I took a moment to soak it all in. I noticed how long her hair had gotten, and how it bounced when she walked. I was pleased with her straight smile that cost a small fortune. I listened to her laugh while she organized her books on a shelf. She was happy. I remembered a younger Jessica, determined to become a dancer, teacher, scientist, songwriter…
“Mom, I have to go.” I wasn’t quite ready. Quick hugs for everyone, “I love you” and she was off. I watched her walk away from me. I felt unfinished, incomplete, awkward almost. I thought our goodbye would be longer, full of meaningful words of wisdom. It happened so fast. She disappeared around the corner and that was it. I made it out of the dorm, but then I just stood there, tears streaming. I felt like I didn’t hold her long enough; like I didn't hold her tight enough. It was a feeling I'll never forget, and I'm not even sure what it was. It wasn't sadness, or anger, or depression. I think it was love. I think it was the feeling that encompasses the phrase "love sucks", because at that moment, it did.
Margaret
Saturday, July 28, 2012
My Two Cents...
Most of you know I wrote a book called “Everybody Has Something”…it’s a celebration of individualism and its purpose is to introduce children to diversity, to nurture self-esteem, and to promote acceptance of all people. I’m beginning to think I should write a similar book for adults.
What is it about the word “gay” that brings out the crazy in people? Gay people are people, just like you and I are people. Yes, their sex life is slightly different, but come on; does anyone really care what anyone else is doing behind closed doors? It seems they only care if the people behind those doors are same sex partners. Gay love is love, just like you and I experience love. If it were to be legalized, gay marriage would be marriage, just as binding and sacred as heterosexual marriage. I know that my views on this may not be the same as your views, and that’s OK. We each should be free to feel and think the way we feel and think.
But, the thing is, some people really want other people to feel and think like they feel and think, and they try to push their personal beliefs onto others. That’s why we’re still talking about gay marriage…and breast feeding, and parenting, and co-sleeping, and abortion, and…etc. It’s really difficult for some people to accept that there is more than one “right” way. The world is not black and white, but rather a hundred shades of gray (ummm…no, not quite like the book!)
It used to be wrong for people of different races to marry, it isn’t anymore. It used to be wrong for people of different religions to marry, it isn’t anymore. It used to be wrong for people of different socio-economic status’s to marry, it isn’t anymore. And I believe the same will be true for same-sex marriage in the near future.
Until then, let’s just let people be themselves. Let’s celebrate that we each are different and unique and beautiful and perfect. Let’s build people up, instead of tear anyone down, and let’s accept each other for who we are; without judgment or conditions.
If you want to ignore the controversy and avoid confrontation, then feel free to do so; if you want to stand up for something you believe is right, then stand up! If you want to eat Chik-fil-A, eat it; if you want to boycott, boycott; if you want to order water to make a point, then make the point. And be accepting of what others do, or don’t do, too.
Margaret
What is it about the word “gay” that brings out the crazy in people? Gay people are people, just like you and I are people. Yes, their sex life is slightly different, but come on; does anyone really care what anyone else is doing behind closed doors? It seems they only care if the people behind those doors are same sex partners. Gay love is love, just like you and I experience love. If it were to be legalized, gay marriage would be marriage, just as binding and sacred as heterosexual marriage. I know that my views on this may not be the same as your views, and that’s OK. We each should be free to feel and think the way we feel and think.
But, the thing is, some people really want other people to feel and think like they feel and think, and they try to push their personal beliefs onto others. That’s why we’re still talking about gay marriage…and breast feeding, and parenting, and co-sleeping, and abortion, and…etc. It’s really difficult for some people to accept that there is more than one “right” way. The world is not black and white, but rather a hundred shades of gray (ummm…no, not quite like the book!)
It used to be wrong for people of different races to marry, it isn’t anymore. It used to be wrong for people of different religions to marry, it isn’t anymore. It used to be wrong for people of different socio-economic status’s to marry, it isn’t anymore. And I believe the same will be true for same-sex marriage in the near future.
Until then, let’s just let people be themselves. Let’s celebrate that we each are different and unique and beautiful and perfect. Let’s build people up, instead of tear anyone down, and let’s accept each other for who we are; without judgment or conditions.
If you want to ignore the controversy and avoid confrontation, then feel free to do so; if you want to stand up for something you believe is right, then stand up! If you want to eat Chik-fil-A, eat it; if you want to boycott, boycott; if you want to order water to make a point, then make the point. And be accepting of what others do, or don’t do, too.
Margaret
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