The Science of Happy

The last year has introduced me to hundreds of people and among them I have found many new friends. Lately, several of these have mentioned my happiness, that I am always smiling and laughing. For as long as I can remember, I've claimed to have an extra gene for 'happy'. Well, not long ago, they isolated a gene that prevents the breakdown of certain neurotransmitters. When they studied it they found that individuals with two copies of that particular gene reported feeling happy more of the time than those with only one copy. My jokes about the 'extra happy gene' may be more fact that I realized. There are other things contributing to my happiness, however. One is this; I don't insist that everything make sense to me. I don't insist that life's challenges fit into boundaries which I can comprehend. I accept that my finite nature cannot possibly comprehend the infinite and all that the infinite can comprehend. This saves me an enormous amount of time and worry, allowing for peace where there might otherwise be chaos in my heart. It is critical to my happiness.

In science it is assumed that everything can be weighed, measured and understood. There is a comfort in that kind of thinking, I guess. Thankfully it never appealed to me very much. Relating to the human body, anyone who devotes their life to the study of it has to admit that it's functioning is simply miraculous. We may know what it does but describing the how is another thing completely. How, for example, does one 'think'. All body function, including healing processes, are regulated in the brain with our old friends the neurotransmitters. And what about the healing and repair of bones and tissues? The constant influx and removal of fluid, elements, proteins... every tissue taking what it needs to build and repair. All subconscious. (Who gets nearer to healing the papercut on their finger by thinking about it?) The best we can hope for is to provide the appropriate support and environment for healing. The body then heals itself. Accepting that I am an observer and supporter of health and healing is the key to my happiness as a nurse. I understand enough to be helpful and when I act on what I do understand, I can make a difference.

As a mother, I've been pretty hands off for much the same reason. From the time my children were born, they have been their own and they have known it. Their demands on me were rightful—food, shelter, love and encouragement. Sometimes encouragement is correction, but it is always love and the love has to come first. The most I ever hoped for with toddlers was a somewhat peaceful coexistence, and that I might be able to carve out some time for my own hobbies when they were sleeping.  I wasn't any good at worrying about messes they were making or if they were doing what I wanted them to do. Children can clean up their messes, they can be bathed. My little children were happy little children. Now, I have a full blown adult, two teens and two tweens. My job, even with my 20 year-old is still to provide appropriate support and an environment conducive to growth. I still don't worry much, though I try to keep an eye on their emotional states and how they are coping with their challenges. When they are worried or stressed, they come to me. They pour their hearts out and we cry. They know that I won't be angry when they fall short, because we have that understanding—the I-am-your-mother-and-I-love-you-no-matter-what understanding. It's enough, and we are happy.

I will never understand everything, even in my field. I will never know all there is to know as a person, a nurse or a mother. So, I aim at peace. I aim for growth. I aim for health and healing. I support wtihout controlling. I will never know or understand everything but I understand enough. I trust One who understands all for the rest. And I am happy.

A Dinner Guest

Something interesting happened yesterday, right about dinner time. A young man from Ohio come to the door and asked the kids if their Mom was home. I wandered over, sure that it was someone selling something, and I was right. We talked for half a minute and I mentioned that we were just about to start dinner, or rather that we were going to read scriptures, and then eat. To that he said, "Are you going to read the Mormon Book? My Dad told me about that, I have one that someone gave me and I've been reading it." I told him that he was welcome to come in and read with us, and he said that he would love to. And so he did.

We read Alma 5:38-52. Everyone took turns reading a verse, including our guest. He was very respectful, and intersted in what we were reading. The section of scripture wasn't very long, but it was full of things I'd been wanting to share with my children. I shared everything with them in exactly the same way I would have if our guest had not been here. There is a section in those verses which speaks of learning for ourselves about God's will and plan for his children. I've been feeling that I wanted them to understand how I gained my testimony, so I spoke to them of my experience with the scriptures, starting when I was about 15.  It wasn't anything earth shattering, just that I started reading every day, and my testimony grew so that I didn't need to rely on my parents' knowledge. I knew for myself, and that's what Alma says, that he knows for himself. I can't imagine any more valuable information for the children of an LDS mother and a father who has left the church and is very angry regarding it sometimes. I know that the kids would have listened, but the presence of our surprise guest distilled the situation for us... it was more potent. He was listening and so they listened as we read and talked about it. As we were finishing, he said that he felt what we had given him was much more valuable than making a purchase from him. He thanked us for being a wonderful family, and sharing the message of Jesus with him. I gave him some dinner and he hurried off to meet up with his colleagues.

I wondered today what he will remember most about this experience with us. I'm sure it will be a unique one for him, if not singular, during his traveling salesman days. I hope it is that there are good people and good families in our country. I hope he felt love here. I am almost certain that we won't find another solicitor jumping at the chance to read scriptures with us. I'm sure it will be something that we tell my grandchildren someday. How many of our experiences in life are surprises to us, but not 'chance'. Many, I think, when we are open to them. When we are they have the potential to leave lasting, beautiful marks on our hearts.

Gratitude... & Joy.

It's six a.m. ...Can't sleep.

I've been lying here since four, oddly enough being kept awake by feelings of gratitude.  Makes me laugh to write those words, but it's the truth. I've had a couple of days off. Monday morning I pulled down the last winter decorations, and that night (with my children) brought 'garage-chaos' into submission. That alone was a happy-healthy moment.  Yesterday I cleaned a little bit, decorated for Spring and Easter and made dinner while the kids were at school. In the evening, the boys my son's age at church (and their leaders) came to help us tackle a painting project in the basement; an amazing and enormous help. Being here in our home and in our neighborhood is such a blessing. I cherish days like these when I can just be 'Abby' and 'Mom'. I love 'Abby the Nurse'—what she does and can do—especially how it makes the days here at home possible. Days that I work, we have extra arrangements to make so that life  happens on schedule, but we are adjusting. Life is happening and things are going well. We are flowing.

Words seem so inadequate for feelings like this, but I think what I'm feeling is joy. It's interesting to me that I have felt joy purely only after losses. The Christmas I had with my children when they had been with their father the year before; that was Joy! Now, enjoying my home after so many years away; it is an overwhelming happiness and gratitude. That, I think, is what Joy is all about. It is transcendent precisely because it understands the losses as well as the gains and can weigh the blessings in a grateful heart. The arrival of long-awaited blessings and hopes isn't always accompanied by peace and happiness. This has taken some time to percolate. At the very least,  it's been peaceful and improving since the storm ended in October.  It's funny that in order to arrive at this place of serenity, another dream had to fall apart. I've noticed that the kids seem to feel it, too. While we had a moment of disillusionment following the frightening end of my marriage,  we all seem to have reached a place of deeper contentment. We are a family, and we love each other. It's not that I expect to stay in a state of perpetual bliss; that's not what I see as Joy. It is life after all and life is fraught with challenges. I see a number of them out there, I need to prepare, but in the meantime, I am just so grateful. We are gratefully, blissfully, at home. Finally. It is a beautiful, joyous thing.

The Reintroduction of Abby to Herself

For twenty-two years I signed my name the same way. I kept my married name post-divorce to remain cohesive with my children; we were still the 'C' family. That was important to me. Everything I did in the last twenty-two years, barring the last year, I did with that name. I graduated with two Bachelors degrees, reared children, applied for jobs, created email accounts and blogs, won awards, started businesses. When I re-married last December, it was very important to my new husband that I take his name, and I did. Within a very short time, however, it was clear that my husband was harboring some very difficult to manage previous emotional damage and illness. He had been kind, caring and respectful and loving to me and my children prior to our wedding. After that day, there were frequent episodes of emotional abuse and physical roughness which eventually led to more serious physical abuse. I had married Dr. Jekyll and come home to Mr. Hyde. By the end of October, every possible warning bell and siren was blaring. It wasn't safe to remain in the marriage.  I thought to myself, "here I go, again, on my own... goin' down the only road..." (K, sorry... that was just too tempting to pass up. By the way, does anyone else find it more than just a little ironic that David Coverdale is never alone in the video for that iconic break-up song? He's always got some girl crawling on him, ... or the car. His lonely street of dreams doesn't look very lonely, or authentic—in my own humble opinion. The producer lost some unreal opportunities for awesome-landscape-while-driving-alone-in-a-convertible footage there. Still, a great song. I'll just keep the reel of awesome-landscape-while-driving-alone-in-a-convertible footage running in my head when I listen to it.)

Now, months later, life is really good—notwithstanding the lonely street of dreams business. I've had so many dreams come true lately. Our neighborhood is wonderful. The kids love being back in our home after six years with my parents. They are doing very well in their new schools. Things at work are excellent. I was one of the first hired at a new facility and that is finally paying off with some seniority in the schedule. I have earned a little bit of respect. Immediately following the end of my marriage, my boss asked what name I'd like shown on the schedule and without hesitation I gave her my maiden name. My gut said, I'm not returning to the name of my first husband. And with that I was Abby 'T' at work. That is a nice feeling. There are still a few things in the system which need to be changed, along with the actual divorce and legal change of the name, but the feeling is good.

And then.... I ran headlong into some unexpected cognitive delay. I had been signing my name Abby T. 'S' for a year, on a million documents a day. It took a while for me to remember that I wasn't going to sign that anymore, like that lag that comes when you are writing the new year on checks after January 1st.  Slowly my brain found a new signature and Abby T. 'C' started coming from my pen; and remember, I have to sign my name a million times. Every. DAY. Finally (with about two months distance between me and the end) signing Abby A. 'T' became more natural and I'm starting to feel like that girl again. Such an odd thing, getting reacquainted with myself after living as 'someone else' for a while. Like peeling back layers of an onion, layers which I believed for a very long time, were ME. During this time, I've taken the opportunity to ask myself what Abby likes... really, truly likes and enjoys, thinks is beautiful and what makes her happy. I've learned a lot. It's been a wonderful un-becoming, a time for recognition. The new year feels especially poignant. My only real goal is to be true to myself; recognizing what is good and best for me and doing those things as often as possible.

And now a few timely quotes, okay four:

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” ~Henry David Thoreau. 

You are so young, all still lies ahead of you, and I should like to ask you, as best I can, dear Sir, to be patient towards all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms, like books written in a foreign tongue. Do not now strive to uncover answers: they cannot be given you because you have not been able to live them. And what matters is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then you will gradually, without noticing it, live your way into the answer, one distant day in the future. ~Rainer Maria Rilke (1875–1926), 1903 July 16th letter to Franz Xaver Kappus, from Worpswede, translated from German by Charlie Louth

“View your life with kindsight. Stop beating yourself up about things from your past. Instead of slapping your forehead and asking, ‘What was I thinking,’ breathe and ask yourself the kinder question, ‘What was I learning?’” ~Karen Salmonsohn

Maybe the journey isn't so much about becoming anything. Maybe it's about un-becoming everything that isn't really you so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place. ~Unknown 

I'd like to take this moment to thank the Garbage Man...

I awoke this morning to the sound of a garbage truck on the street outside. Yesterday was Christmas, but it was Friday which is our normal pick up day—so the garbage pick up was today. I had completely forgotten about pulling the cans to the curb. Panic set in, just a little bit anyway. I thought I might still have time to get them out and that they'd be picked up as he came back around. At least that's what I thought as I dressed hurriedly and ran out into the snow.

Yesterday was my first Christmas as a nurse. My children had been at their Dad's house for a week already. I volunteered to work on Christmas months ago, knowing I'd be home alone anyway.  When I did that I had no way to know what the schedule would actually say. I remember looking at it for the first time at the end of November thinking, My boss must be crazy. I was scheduled to work Christmas Eve Night shift from 6 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. and Christmas Day from 2 p.m. to 10 p.m. —7.5 whole hours off on Christmas day. My thoughts were confirmed as reality replaced the plan.

When I got to work Christmas Eve night, it started to snow. The shift was unremarkable and punctuated by sweetness. Like, for example, my favorite little man calling from his room at 2:30 a.m. so that he could be 'The first to wish you two beautiful girls a Merry Christmas.' It had been a good night. When the Day Nurse arrived, I was anxious about the snow I guess, knowing it was deep already and still coming down. We went through our routine and I was out the door on time, crawling home over a world blanketed white. When I arrived, it quickly became apparent that I wouldn't be able to get up the driveway. There was too much snow, and my wheels were spinning with even the small angle. I had to shovel off the driveway before I could pull into the garage, but finally made it in. When I did, I realized that my phone was buzzing. Then I realized that my pockets were heavy... I still had the keys, and sure enough it was the Day Nurse calling to tell me the same terrible truth. So, I got back into the car and headed back out onto the white frozen road. An hour later, I was home again. Exhausted. It was still snowing.

After a few hours of sleep, I peeked outside and realized that a good deal more snow had fallen and that a snow plow had pushed a mound of snow 18" high across the entire length of the end of my driveway. Another snow clearing would be necessary before I could go back to work. I got ready and headed out with my shovel. It was a feat, but I managed it and had just enough brute force left in me to get that pile at the end of the driveway pushed out of the way before climbing back into the car. I stopped on the way to have some Christmas lunch with my parents and a few of my sisters, by far the best part of the day. My mother is a wonderful cook. I felt their love, filled up on roast beef and mashed potatoes and my great grandmother's special salad and was off again. My father always buys a few pounds of See's candies to share with us girls. The work day was work. Needless to say, by the time I finished my Christmas Day shift, I was utterly spent. I pulled into the garage, grateful for not having to shovel the drive a third time. And that's honestly about all I was thinking about when I crawled into bed again, grateful that I could finally get some solid sleep.

It was about 9:30 when I heard that garbage truck, and I was unsure that I'd even be able to pull those garbage cans out from the side of the house. I was sore, and the mounds I'd created along the side of the drive were significant. I raced out however, knowing that we'd need the space in the cans for the coming week. As I was coming down the driveway with the can, the garbage truck stopped. I stopped, too. He motioned for me to bring the can across the street, and waited for me... so of course I did. After he had emptied the contents, he unrolled the window to let me know that he had already come down my side of the street, but he didn't want me to miss out. I was so grateful.

So, I'd just like to thank the Driver of the garbage truck. I did, of course, when he rolled down the window to talk to me. There wasn't time to tell him how truly much it meant to me, but it was very meaningful to me, to be seen and have that small need noticed. He didn't know about the days I'd had recently or how tired I was. He didn't have to stop for me: His work was done on my side of the street. But, he did stop and wait and make sure I was taken care of. I hope to take a little of that Spirit and Example forward with me through the rest of the month and into the coming year. Those small things mean a lot to one who's struggling. I hope I can be aware enough to see them and try to make the difference for those around me.

Merry Christmas! (You're Welcome.)

Sissel with The Mormon Tabernacle Choir: In the Bleak Midwinter

Five Years

Five years ago, I wrote this: Where will you be five years from today?

And now, it's been a little longer than five years but I am here to report on my progress.

I graduated from the University of Utah with my BSN in August of 2014. I have been working as a nurse for a year now. My brain now functions in completely new and different realms; I understand the human body and it's functioning. I can watch over vulnerable, fragile life. I can make a difference for them. It has taken that year-plus since graduation to really feel that I understand what I'm doing, but now I DO! I am a nurse.
It is surreal, most days, to look back and realize where I've been and what I've accomplished with a great deal of heavenly and earthly help. What started as a well conceived but not even partially understood goal has gone from seed to flower and is now my life. I am so grateful to have the opportunities that I do, to go where I go for work and do the things I do. What I knew five years ago was that I hadn't stretched quite enough. I hadn't pushed my potential. I knew I wanted more from my life, my brain and my soul. Even better, five years ago, I didn't know any of the hows yet, just that I wanted a Bachelors of Nursing Science. I had begun to consider where I could seek the education I needed but it was another full year before I sorted through the possibilities and applied. Honestly, there was some desperate prayer, some answers and some inspiriation, which led to a few small steps, and then others and finally I was on a road. Six months after starting the applications, I started classes and 27 months of straight schooling after that, I graduated.
Now, finally, I've started to integrate the early parts of me back in. My five year old post was pretty grandiose. Goals in so many areas, that was the answer. These were the areas. I'll take stock of what's happened in them.

Spiritual—My education was a gift to my Spiritual self. As I considered the unknowable depths of the intricacies of the human body, the depth of my reverence for my Creator deepened. I sobbed in Anatomy as I learned about the structure of bones. (Honestly.) I took my first Pharmacology exam 3 days after under-going surgery, and had the highest score in the class... knowing full well that my mind had been quickened far beyond my natural ability. I saw the hand of God in my life time after time and I understood that in walking that road I was doing his will and his work. It was a beautiful time. Now, I feel opportunities daily to reach out in comfort and compassion, and they are the best parts of my day.

Family—My children and I have made a number of transitions and recently moved back into our original home. One has graduated and is working full time in a field he enjoys and the rest are doing well in school, thriving. We've all grown. They are proud of their Mama. I am proud of them. We are stronger, still learning about ourselves and what we are made of. We are enjoying being 'home'.

Career—Nursing has begun in me. There is a lot more I'd like to do, but there is much I can do, already. I found a niche I think, a good place for me, which has allowed me to learn about a broad range of things, quickly. 

Health—I could be much healthier... mostly because I know all the things I'm up against now. This is one area which will need some focused goals if I'm going to be able to keep growing in my career and education areas.

Financial—Oh, ok. Well that just makes me laugh. Let's just call this my opportunity area, shall we? 

Education—See the beginning of the post... But for future goals, I'd like to complete a Doctorate.

Recreation—Goals for recreation. Hmmm. We went Ice Skating? We watched movies, mostly on Netflix or Redbox. Sometimes in theaters. I think photography, sewing and hobbies would fit here... Those have started to sprout again and I'm thrilled to see where some of my ideas are going to take me. It's wonderful to begin to unearth the fun parts of me.

Charitable—I give to local charities and tithe. I have started a Non-Profit Organization to benefit families affected by cancer, and hope to be able to dedicate more time to developing that in the future.

Adventure—For me, adventure lately has been in writing... I have a novel in my head which has been piecing itself together for a while. It's starting to become a more cohesive, understood commodity and I'm getting ready to pour some love and time into it. It's also my therapy.

Travel—We went to a cabin by a lake every year with my parents, sisters and thier families. I went on a carribbean cruise. I took my children on a little trip two summers ago. We need a vacation. I still want to go to the beach. I still want to go back to Jackson.

Romance—The grand failure in the last five years has been romance, for me. Not that I didn't try, just that the romances failed. The most promising wove through about the last three years. We got married last almost exactly a year ago. It seemed to be an amazing fit while we were dating. He loved my children, they loved him, we all loved each other and so after over a year dating we decided to give it a permanent go... What neither of us understood was that he was struggling with emotional demons which would tear us apart. It was at it's core an attachement disorder and the short of it was, he couldn't bond and coudn't trust. He has moved on, we are picking up the pieces now.

Relationships—I have new friends and old friends. I have wonderful neighbors who've made this holiday season unreasonably beautiful for me. Relationships is a lovely garden in my life, one I hope to cultivate with more care and love.

So, this is my report. I'm glad I finally figured out how to log into my blogs again... It might take me all night to catch up with my former self but it will be worth it.

It's Nine a.m.

I need to leave by Eleven. I have work to do for two employers today. I had yesterday off, but it was not relaxing. Emotionally, I haven't begun to sort through it yet and my body it enacting it's own form of violent takover. I feel like I could cry, but I'm pretty sure it's just wicked hormonal cycles rather than deep bubbling "needing to be worked through" feelings. Still like I said, I haven't started to sort through yesterday, yet.
Yesterday really isn't a big deal. I'm taking care of my friend's daughter while he's in Europe with his band. It's only ten days, and honestly I don't really get to see much of him when he's here. We both have very busy lives: lots of obligations and tons of general life issues to sort out, categorize, weigh and ponder. For some reason though, I guess that I am missing him—probably because I KNOW he's really far away. . . OK, fine. I'm really crying now. I guess I did need to work through some feelings. I take it for granted that he's "there"—closeby if I need a hug or a pep talk. I'll have to listen to those feelings more later. I have no idea what on earth to do with them even that there is really anything that I can do with them. Whatever it is, it's okay.
It's ten after Nine, though now, and I've still got time that I need to spend with my children. Precious little more than an hour to love them before I leave for work. When I get home, they'll be with their dad for the rest of the weekend. Monday is the first day of school. I'm going to be over at the school on Monday to take my kindergarten girl for her assessment. I'm grateful for the excuse to be at the school a little bit, to see them and give them hugs. I will have them three days next week and then they'll be back with their Dad for another weekend. . . a weekend which includes my birthday. It's painful. . . I had no idea how much it would hurt to have so little time with them. Days like today, I'd love to just sit quietly and hold them as much as they'd let me. I hate leaving for work when I know that they'll be gone when I get home. It feels wrong.
It is a huge blessing to have my friend's daughter here for two of the three weekends in a row that the kids will be with their dad. It helps him, but it will help me, too. I'm grateful.
It's just a rockin' time of year, this part. It's a time to float, a little bit. Do only the absolutely necessary and allow the rhythm of things to carry me. I'll take it all day by day. Before I know it, mid-September will be upon us and we'll all be headed up to the lake for some quiet happy days together. I'll survive.
It's nine thirty.

Where I want to be. . .

So, I have all these plans and they are great plans. I live in a beautiful place, truly enviable in it's beauty. It's a good place, where I am in my life—and it's where I want to be almost all the time. Today, however, is overcast and quite chilly. Today, I am experiencing a little wanderlust—ok fine, more than a little.
Last year we went to Grand Teton and Yellowstone in August. That was smashing fun! This morning, I was craving a little jaunt to Jackson. I had that "I'd rather be in Jackson" sticker on my virtual forehead. I moved on with my day, thinking about the mountains and meadows and lakes in the Grand Teton area. . . so lovely. My five year old needed some snuggle time, so I left my work and sat with her a while. I was thinking about, and telling her about when I was a child. I spent some of my formative years in San Diego, also a very beautiful place. No sooner had that thought passed through my mind than I was craving a little time at the beach. It's been a long time since I had some time at the beach and she has not been to the beach. . . such a shame! I really do miss the sound of the water and the waves washing up over my feet as I walked along the coast. I enjoy my evening beach memories most. I loved going with friends. The light of the moon reflected on the ocean and the feel of the sand. Ah yes. . . so lovely. . . and I moved on with my day.
I have some plans for a little travel in September—to a fun cabin by a lake. I want to work in some day trips with the kids when we have holiday time this summer. My ten year old really wants to visit her cousins and we've been trying to work that out for a year. I think it's about time we just make the trip, even if I can only get one extra day off work and we only have one full day there—for her, I think it will be worth it.
I suppose it's a good thing that I can't just go anywhere I please at any moment. Commitments and reality are demanding. I think it's important though, to listen to what your heart longs for. You could allow reality never to include pauses for beautiful journeys, but then what would you have to look back on for inspiration and joy on cloudy days? I could say that there just isn't time for a visit to the cousins, but then the memories we might have made won't be able to warm my daughter's heart when she is grown. Good memories are riches, and they are worth the treasure hunting and adventure necessary to make them.

Yoga, Injuries and Life Lessons.

I broke my baby toe about a week and a half ago. I've been protecting it like a mother bear after my children attacked it mercilessly for a few days following the initial injury. Even with the potential pain, I needed some stretching last week. It was surprisingly easy to keep it out of harm's way. Carpets aren't nearly as prone to kicking and crushing broken toes as children are. I was relieved, and the Yoga was very effective and wonderfully soothing.
As I go through my workout, there is a move where you transition from downward facing dog to upward facing dog. Basically, from an "A" shape, feet never moving, through a plank position pushing forward until your torso is facing forward with your arms unbent at your sides. (I'm sure that's really confusing. It was hard for me to figure out how to do physically, let alone describe with words.) As I pushed through the plank position this time, I remembered a time when I had taken a terrible fall down my friend's front concrete steps a few years ago. I caught myself on my hands. I had not broken my wrists, but it took weeks for the muscles to heal to the point where they could bear weight or support anything at all. . . like a skillet I needed to place on a stovetop. It was much longer until I could twist my hands naturally. Now, I caught my breath as I realized that it has been more than I year since I needed to baby my right wrist through that move. I remember wondering if it would ever heal completely. I hardly remember it happening, it's healing, it was so gradual. . . but it has healed.
The next thought I had was of gratitude, that I had this thread of Yoga to remind me of where I've been physically, and show me where I am now. I think there are many threads in our lives, if we will practice consistently, which will serve us the same way. The things we practice, which we love and which make us who we are will serve to mark our path and show us how far we have truly come.

Mark Twain thoughts.

Take out your brain and jump on it—It gets all caked up. —Mark Twain

Samuel Clemens, at age thirty had a dime to his name. He was distraught and alone. He tried to end his life and failed. I think we can all agree that our world would not be the same if he had succeeded. That was twenty years before he wrote Huckleberry Finn.

Near the end of his life, he wrote this:


What work I have done I have done because it has been play. If it had been work I shouldn't have done it.
Who was it who said, "Blessed is the man who has found his work"? Whoever it was he had the right idea in his mind. Mark you, he says his work--not somebody else's work. The work that is really a man's own work is play and not work at all. Cursed is the man who has found some other man's work and cannot lose it. When we talk about the great workers of the world we really mean the great players of the world. The fellows who groan and sweat under the weary load of toil that they bear never can hope to do anything great. How can they when their souls are in a ferment of revolt against the employment of their hands and brains? The product of slavery, intellectual or physical, can never be great.
- "A Humorist's Confession," The New York Times, 11/26/1905


Find your work, not someone else's work.

Love your life. Celebrate it.

Some Photos and Some Quotes.

Success is often the result of taking a misstep in the right direction. —Al Bernstein

Penicillin, X-rays, rubber, even Silly Putty and Post-It Notes

were all fortuitous by-products of looking for something else.

—Hirsch Goldberg.

Every exit is an entry somewhere else.

Remember that Columbus was looking for India

when he found America.

—Tom Stoppard

In every problem or set back there is the seed of an equivalent

or greater benefit—if you will only stop and look for it.

—Bob Moawad

quotes from the book think big. . . compendium incorporated

Photo Printing.

A while back I got caught up on about 6 years worth of unprinted digital photos. I sent them to Costco and in one fell swoop I was set. I felt that I had truly come a long way in terms of emotional health. I was able to look at photos of the last four years of my marriage without a great deal of pain. I wanted the photos, and I was ready to document the good times of those four years, at the very least. I want my children to have a record of the happy things we've seen together. I want to make a beautiful record of family vacations and the fun things we've done, for them to look back on and enjoy. So, anyway, like I said, I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Until yesterday morning. I went to look for photos of my youngest's first birthday (she just turned five) and you know what? I hadn't printed them. There were about six months that I missed when I was ordering prints. It just happens to be, what a surprise, the most emotionally difficult six months of my life. I love the photos, and I had uploaded them to Costco, I had just not ordered the prints. So yesterday, I did. Among the photos I took during those six months are some of my all time favorites of my children. I can't say why I didn't get them ordered before. I can say that I am really happy to have them now. I'm very very happy. Another little milestone.

I'm Impressed!

It’s amazing what comes out of a small change.

I started a blog last week, for old and current members of the Beja branch. . . It grew out of the conversation I had with some friends last Thursday. From that, and the fact that I got off Facebook this month (the small change). I’ve started blogging again. . . which has in turn sparked my desire to get out and take photos. . . and at THIS moment, I have this amazing sense that I am finally coming around to myself, again. I see the answer to some of the problems I'm facing. All I need to do, is be myself, and do the things I love to do. It is invigorating, and I’m thrilled!


I’ve been having this feeling in different kinds of ways, on and off, for a while. First, I felt it pretty strongly as I was contemplating my career choices, schooling and the general sense of self understanding that I’ve gained in the last year. That was a Hallelujah moment! Also during the last year I had put some things on the back burner—things that were very core to me. I was using Facebook for social and hobby stuff. I was posting my photos and thoughts to Facebook rather than my blogs. It’s not that blogs are “better” per se, just that I feel like they are more where I need to be, I guess. I have some opportunities to touch people through the work I do there. It’s very uplifting work which reaches people all over the world. I'm excited to get back to it!


From that, I made a small goal. One post to each blog weekly. That’s not excessive, at ALL. That’s doable. It will push me to work on craft things and photography so that I have something to post. I’ve been trying to work the motivation out on those for a while now. Now I have it. Wonderful! I wrote that goal down and put it on my computer. Then I thought of some other things I want to do (scripture study, prayer, exercise and vitamins). I made another little note with four things and the number of times each week I’d like to do them. Then, on my desk calendar, I made a small box on Saturday to record hash marks for each item. That’s an easy goal/plan in two sticky notes and a little box. . . easy accountability. Excellent! I need to get to bed now. I hope I can sleep. . . :)

Keep Your Eye on the Prize

There is going to be stream of consciousness thought here. Run now if you hate that kind of thing.

So much in life is unknowable. . . until we know. The future, for instance—until it arrives with the answers we are waiting for, we simply cannot know what it will be. We have hunches, ideas and desires for the future, but we don't know when we will become ill or when there will be accidents. We can prepare for things and work to avoid negative consequences but we don't always see difficulties coming. At times we don't even see them coming when they are as plain and as noisy as a Mack Truck headed for our front door. We look away, we ignore and then we pay the price; we learn, we grow & we find ourselves smiling again in time.

For so long I've been floating, sometimes with an obvious current giving me direction and sometimes with nothing but the feeling that I simply should not panic. . . that floating as a means of survival was doing more than 'fine'. You know they actually teach the survival float in Red Cross water safety training right? Here's something I wrote about this a while back:


I've been teaching my children to float when we go to the pool. It is the first rule of water safety. Panic is your aquatic enemy. You must relax completely and be absolutely still. It occurs to me that in life, as well, thrashing around and panicking in a sea of stress is wasted energy, and possibly even emotionally lethal. We are often told to "Be Still." At times like this, even when there is literally a SEA of stress that seems as if it would swallow me whole, quiet faith calls for that stillness. Experience has taught me to follow my heart, and allow the greater powers of the universe to guide my life.

One of the things I found while I was floating, which I feel is aligned perfectly with this mindset, is this little guide (The Woman's Book of Confidence by Sue Patton Thoele):

Understand and Honor Needs

Have Realistic Expectations

Ask for Help

Abolish Guilt

Here's what I think most of us do, most of the time:

Ignore and Discredit Needs

Nurse Unrealistic Expectations

Insist on Self-Reliance
Hoard Guilt


I think that for the most part, most of this do these things to Ourselves without even a second thought to the emotional impact it has on us:

We pretend that we have no needs. We pretend that we have no desires. We pretend that we are inert objects made for the purpose of loving and protecting children and family. . . and WAIT! It gets even better. . . We actually feel GUILTY about any needs or desires that we have. We DO! Don't we!

We push ourselves to do more with less until we are doing everything with nothing and wonder why we "feel" empty. Hmmm. . . Really?!? Yes! Because we ARE empty.

We judge our weaknesses against the strengths of others, convincing ourselves that we are less-than if we can't achieve the same things they can. . . and they are probably doing the same thing looking at our strengths. . . the mutual self-depreciation society.


We refuse to lean on others, family and friends, ANYONE. . . we tell ourselves that no one will understand, we convince ourselves that we are alone in our struggles. . .which is the actual reason that we ARE alone.


We feel guilty about things like not perfectly following every regimen that will lead to optimal health, for heaven's sake—as if 'good' health wasn't nearly enough. . . or even more ridiculous— we feel guilty for being absolutely NORMAL because that photo-shopped photo on the cover of that Magazine shows a mother of three with more muscle definition than AhNold. 


What's wrong with this picture? A lot. I'm pretty sure that most of us can identify with at least one of these statements. Well, it's time to break free. Wherever that garbage comes from, that's all it is. Garbage. . . and it's high time we take the Garbage OUT!


Ponder the meaning of Understanding and Honoring Needs. This goes far beyond simple selfishness. This is an acknowledgement of our HUMANITY for heaven's sake. We are human. We have needs. We do ourselves a great disservice in pretending that we can go on forever without filling our own reservoir. We need to take time to appreciate and nurture the tender soul within ourselves, not just the souls of those around us.


Accept the Peace of Realistic Expectations. Enough SAID!


Support groups aren't just for therapy. Don't isolate yourself. WE MUST surround ourselves with friends who love us and appreciate us for who we are. WE MUST build a network of people that we can trust with our true selves, who will not judge us, who will give us sound advice and guidance, and who will lend us strength. WE MUST determine who we can count on, and then turn to them when we need them.


LET IT GO! We are not perfect. No one needs to be told that they are not perfect, but everyone needs to be taught to give themselves permission NOT to be perfect. Feeling guilty about not being perfect is the MOST wasted energy in the universe. We need to take things a day at a time. We need to listen to ourselves, take note (in a kindly self-sustaining way) of areas in which we'd like to improve, making no demands. Instead of using guilt as the motivator, we can put that energy into ourselves instead.


The prize? Happiness. Wholeness. Peacefulness. 


Keep your eye on that and take OUT the trash that keeps you from it.