May 8, 2015
Who are the people in your neighborhood?
They’re the people that you meet each day!
That Sesame Street song comes back to me even now. How do I treat those I just meet? I must admit, I have such a preconceived idea of who someone is before I ever meet them. The glance from across the room, their attire, their group dynamics. As I lift my hand for a hearty shake, I already think that I know who they are, which is why our meeting is now very important.
When I meet you, then my world collides with yours and all the things I thought I knew about you no longer overwhelm or discolor my thoughts. If we never meet, then I am jailed in my thoughts for you, never knowing for better or for worse, if my thoughts of you in any way resemble reality and I am less rounded for missing you.
When we meet, it is an experience I’ll never have again and I can never duplicate because there is no other you on the planet.
You are worth meeting.
When we do shake hands, know that I truly mean
Hello, nice to MEET you!
””Let’s go team! Break!”
That’s a classic scene every coach has been a part of instigating. We bring in our athletes and inspire them to do better, to work harder, to fix our mistakes, and win! Then after our rousing speech we BREAK. We break the huddle, hold on and watch how our team responds.
Sometimes we see victory. They listen the play. The BREAK brought us together for success.
Sometimes we encounter the opposite. HeartBREAK because the BREAK sent out individuals to accomplish a team goal. Each focused on personal quests based on past experiences. The huddle made no impact. The BREAK broke us.
Whenever I feel a BREAK moment in my life, I must remember the huddle first. Before the break I may have made mistakes, I may have forgotten the play, but in the huddle I am forced to remember and to come face to face with my team, the ones with me in this game of life. With them I can play my best, rely on our strengths as a whole and try our best to become ubBREAKable.
I have my team. By reading this, you’ve become a part of it. Let’s play this game of life…together. Go team! BREAK!
What if we were real? One of my favorite songs, but I have to admit that sometimes I don’t care for the suggestion that I am at times not real.
I’m prideful like that. For real.
So often I think that I live my life in a real way. The thought that I would ever change who I am or how I act based on the company I keep or the situation in which I find myself is…well…a little too real.
The ability to be vulnerable is not a skill I possess easily. Real means in essence not fake at all. Period. If something is real you can trust it, you can challenge it, and it will remain as it appears.
Let me be real, I can not live up to that expectation every moment of my life. Can you? Let’s live not to be real, but to be forgiving, empathetic, compassionate, and authentic in our struggle to be ourselves.
Start When she wakes up tomorrow, she will be six. When did she grow to be six years old? When I think about her, I have to smile. Not because of her cuteness, but because that pretty little thing will someday rule the world. Ok, not literally, but don’t tell her that! When I look into that face, I still see that precious baby looking back. I see every first she ever took. I see every tear she ever cried. I see every milestone she has faced and conquered. And tomorrow when I see her, I will again look beyond the past and into the future; delighting in what has been and dreaming for her of what will become… when… When she goes into first grade… When she hits middle school… When she has her first crush that’s not her dad… When she is all grown up and needs me differently than she dies now… Whenever those new “whens” of change come, and they seem to be coming faster than ever, it will be bittersweet for this momma who loves her baby. But I am so grateful that I will always get to remember WHEN.
…has it really been that long? Yup. I guess so. That’s the bad news. Well, that and the fact that this was one of the hardest five minutes I have ever done. (Notice the lack of content. Five minutes flew by before the cobwebs in my brain could be dusted off.) The great news is that I am back…and you can be, too! Let’s KEEP doing the things we love and let GOD give them life we never could! Choose a great day!
Keep. A word of possession. A word of power. The word incites fights among enemies, friends, or family. It’s mine. I am going to KEEP it. Keep it coming. Keep it moving. Keep going. A word of movement. Never stopping. Keep on, keeping on.
KEEP. Without it we would not know GIVE. Seemingly it’s nemesis, GIVE shows us the power of peace. Give it away. Give ’til it hurts. Give me a break! Give looks outward while KEEP always comes back to me like a boomerang, and possessing those same effects.
KEEP, the weapon I choose to wield in the way I want to receive. I can KEEP but it will return to me…
Friday March 14, 2014: Crowd
Faces. A crowd contains faces. Most I don’t know, but I like to look at. Round. Oval. Square. Heart shaped. Scowling. Smiling. Funky face. I like them.
As the crowd moves, I can’t help but consider how I connect with them. We are here sharing the same space and yet we are not. Her mind is on her life. His mind is on his job. My mind can not entertain their thoughts, but my actions can show my heart.
As long as I am with the crowd, I stand for something. I am now bigger than myself. I am more than I could ever be by myself. But being a part of a whole does not mean that in one there is not a hole.
Crowds can be great but they can only make a difference externally. A crowd can sometimes crowd out the very self we are to be thus making our presence empty and simply place-filling instead of full, beautiful, and multiplying.
As the crowd leaves, I must remember that I am not leaving with it. The crowd was better because I added to it, and I will not let the crowd take me away.
So I thought this was the phrase to write about so I did! I like it so I am keeping it. Hope you are not too disappointed. The word today was supposed to be encouragement. I would be encouraged if you read it anyway. Thank you!
I am what I say. It’s true. What comes out was once inside. My words tell my story. My words color my picture. My words fill in the blanks that I don’t want you to know.
My words matter.
Not my voice. I can speak in words loudly or softly. There weight is carried by the content within them. Just listen. They’ll tell you who I am, what I value, what I think.
My words matter.
Push me. I’ll speak what I know. Try me. I will reap what I sow. For what I say to you, my foot I may swallow. Your hurt or your healing could come from me tomorrow.
My words matter.
And what you may in turn retort. Your speech to me; your words report. You will do the same. It’s what’s in your heart because:
Your words matter…to me.
Just in case you want to see what I wrote before, here’s a great diary of sorts for my quick posts!
Friday Jan. 10, 2014: SEE
Do you see what I see? I bet you don’t. My sight has to do with my experiences so you can’t possibly see what I see. Because of that I sometimes don’t trust you. I say don’t you see or can’t you see…A LOT!
Can’t you see that I’m working here?
Don’t you see that I was using that?
Can’t you see that I need you?
A lot of seeing often doesn’t match up with what is being said or done. See, I assume you should see or that you can see what I see. What I should be doing is saying. Because what I see, I should be meaning to say.
I am too busy for you to understand how stressed I am. I need you to see my situation and respect my work.
I may not do an adequate job defining my space or organizing my items so I need you to ask me what is important so I can feel free enough and secure enough to share with you.
I don’t like to appear weak. I want to be superwoman for you and everyone else and the thought that I could let any of you down frightens me. Please help without me always having to ask. I need you.
I don’t blame you if you can’t see that. I really should say it.
Friday Jan. 3, 2014: FIGHT
You’ve got to fight for your right…or not. When it comes to fight or flight, honestly, I will choose flight as often as I can. Ask my sister. She was on the hurting end of a fight or flight scenario when we were kids. A bruiser came to attack us. I chose flight. My sis got bruised.
Fight is not necessarily a bad choice when you consider what non-fight may result in.
I don’t mean going to knock everyone’s block off. I don’t mean to live in such a way that one is always on the defensive (or offensive depending on who you are) mentality. I am merely considering the possibility that there are life options worth fighting for. The question then is not if I should fight, but what should I fight? And how do I do it?
With a new year full of possibilities, let’s me and you define our fights this year. Keep it above the belt. And keep our purpose for the greatest good.