Worth it

At least while my eyes were open, we watched a movie Saturday night about a device that was able to retrieve memories. I told Denise about it and she said (paraphrased), "Maybe we're supposed to forget some things."

My kids have wondered, and so do I, if we will be able to remember this life when we die and go to heaven. I think we would, even though my memory is flawed, since we are required to give an account for ourselves. (But don't take my word for it, look it up for yourself! You could start here.)

***

Over lunch, I was going through email. I had about 600 plus in my inbox from years ago because, for some reason, I thought I would revisit them later. I decided to start deleting them, but first, I opened a couple.

One was about the benches my dad gave me. I know the memory of that exchange was like a bruise, but over time, I forgot specifics. I opened the email, which contained a more detailed account of that day. Comments I had forgotten. Did he plan those words he had said to me? Did he realize the affect they'd have? Certainly not the first or last time I would ask those questions about him.

Later in that time frame, an exchange with a friend who had written me personally in response to a 66 Books post. I read her (old) email again today and looked up the post.

***

I got up early and drank coffee. Got my head around some things. Tidied up. Went for a run. I grabbed some books for lesson planning (because I love homeschooling; I love medieval history and literature; I love books!)--although I half knew I wouldn't actually have much time to read them in the parking lot--and I headed out to a yoga class.

I rested on the mat of that first-ever-for-me class. I looked up at the ceiling and noticed the ceiling fan. It was such a(n odd) focal point. I moved and stretched and bent and pulled according to the instructor's direction. When it was over, I put my shoes on and stepped out into a bright, sunny day. I sat in the car and texted my husband: Yoga. Wow.

I felt like a whole new person.

So when I came home and ate a big ole salad for lunch and read through those voices of the past, I paused. And I chuckled. Because this year, especially, I realized: I am SO worth it.

***

Just finished six months of goal work. Celebrating changes in all areas, growth. I read recently that 95% of people give up on their goals. I've talked with a few who told me they wanted change, but never sought the tools or invested the effort to achieve change. I checked in with a friend to see where she was, but she gave up early in. Another hasn't started. There is no condemnation in the observation, truly. My first few months into this were flailing attempts, half-hearted. But I reached a point where I wondered, "Where is the change? Why are my efforts ineffective?" And I realized I wasn't making much progress because I had a foot still in January and one in April. A body can't really stretch and straddle time far or well. I planted both feet in May, and that action propelled me to June's finish line. Woo-hoo!

Yesterday, I sat at a table under a shady tree, felt the summery breeze blowing, looked up at the bluest sky and inhaled the sweet scents of a nearby meadow. I opened up a new planner and considered the next six months.

 ***

Her words spoke into the lulling stillness, "The silence is full of answers."

Taking time to be still.

***

January:  organized repair and paint for my dad's house; learned to knit with Marshall's Mom's mom; wrote out goals; evaluated relationships.
February: listed my dad's house; joined a local knit group; stepped away from Facebook.
March: settled on my dad's house; got a puppy; hosted a knit group here.
April: had our review, worked in the yard; had hard talks; reassessed and recommitted to goals
May: ran; clear mammogram; purged clothes; poetry tea.
June: ran even farther; blocked negativity; was accountable for calories and exercise; took a class; enjoyed time celebrating friends and loving my family; organized video chat book club.

Celebrating!

***

One of the things I learned in this journey is that it's worth the fight and effort. This one life, friends, live it well. How one defines "well" is certainly individual, but think about what matters, truly, and cultivate that. Nurture it. Protect it. Invest.

I walked out of the class that day with an energy, a peace, and a realization:

I am changed. (Thank you, God!)

I think if I'd had any inkling of who I'd become by June, I wouldn't have waited until May to get (really) serious.

On, on.

Dog

Shane wanted a big dog. I wanted a medium sized dog. I scanned the puppies on the list week after week. This little black and white one, she reminded me of a border collie. Her foster name was Half-Note. The description said she would be a large dog and that her mom was 75 pounds.

I named her Ruth after Ruth in the Bible. I wanted a dog who would be loyal. We laugh now, because this dog is so very loyal. She is at my feet wherever I am. And if she can't get to me, she waits at the doorway for my return.

She brings me toys to play with her. When I chop up cucumbers and cheese, she is right at my side, looking up expectantly. I love how she hunkers humbly and wags when she sees me, like she's trying to keep a lid on her happiness. It bubbles over anyway.

Best dog ever.

"I think you're done growing," Shane said to her. She is not the Newfie mix we thought she might be. And that 75-pound mama was relisted on the rescue site at 57 pounds. Typo? Regardless, sweet Ruth seems like she'll be a medium sized dog. She weighed in at 36 pounds at her five-month check up.

Sweet mutty mix. So glad she's mine.

hole digger

puppy love

always at my feet

And still counting (12,102-12,137)

a good read
an unplanned nap on a cloudy afternoon
the last of the (delicious, delightful) spicy Christmas tea pods
a spoonful of honey

Mexican cauli rice
a running streak
audiobooks
community walks
Ruth

10k step days
Marshall's Mom: goal getter
flannel shirts at the thrift store
a camera back in my hands
coffee with cream and sugar

a spot reserved in yoga
an advent book ordered (so looking forward to our next school year!)
paleo pancake recipes
cheap old houses
all the good cookbooks

Janet on video chat
kids whistling "Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!"
impatiens planted
gentle rains
some weeds pulled

their excitement towards recital
my excitement too--enjoying the journey
lunch out with my guy
sweet Ruth
a great recital

friends and family who came to support the girls
Anita, sending love from home
dinner in a slow cooker
good smells when we got home
Denise at the table

today, this (official to me) start of summer
coffee at 4 in the morning

Day story

June

Outside my window, summer sights. Window boxes with cheery red geraniums. Wild berries growing along the perimeter, scant harvest for little hands, a daughter who checks daily with anticipation. Everything is green. And now big blue shimmers in back. Summer splashing on the horizon. Summer is here.

Giving thanks for progress. I don't have all the gardens weeded. I don't even have the marigolds planted along the walkway. Or last year's mulch mound spread. But I do have two tomato plants and window boxes full of beauty. I'm thankful for what I am able to accomplish that can be seen, and for the things I have accomplished that most people don't even know about. Thankful for God's steady hand. 

In the school room sending off grades and papers this week. Marking the calendar for service opportunities. My table is covered again, and I don't know how. Shelves readied for medieval.

From the kitchen, my second coffee. Scribbled notes to Paleo Running Mama's Mexican Cauli Rice. It sounds good. This month has been strong on discipline and choices. Special thanks to the Lose It! app, making tracking food and exercise easy peasy. Love it.

I am celebrating June. Six months ago, I was in a deep pit--stressed, worried, unhealthy. After months, I've learned to filter tasks through the sieve of goals. It allowed me very recently when asked for a long-term commitment to pause as I asked myself, "How do I make this work?" to telling myself, "This doesn't line up with my goals right now. It would add unnecessary restraints on my time to do the things I've prioritized." And I said no. There was a time I would have said yes without thinking it through. I am celebrating.

I don't want to forget the list of things I wrote on top of a June planning schedule. Affirmations that it's ok for me to decide what needs to be important right now. And it's ok for me to rest and take time to care for myself. Enjoying walks with audiobooks. Enjoying setting my phone down to pick up my camera. Enjoying first splashes in the pool (yesterday) with the kids, and even Ruth joined us. I realized at the end of the day, I hadn't even mentioned (her name). I was fully present here.

Around the house, I'm trying not to look too far ahead. Summer doesn't feel like it starts until after dance, and then it's only two months long. Looking forward to friends over this year. Looking forward to bonfires and swims and cookouts. Looking forward to berry picking and Frisbee and throwing sticks for a dog. Trying to keep a foot in quadrant two.

I am hearing my kids playing a game at the table. They are laughing and chatting and I'm glad. I'm glad.


A view of my favorite things:

First swim!

Back at church.

This guy. Great dad. Great husband. Great friend.

 

Wet dog.

What? Dog on the couch? How did we become that family?

At the table, I'm thinking I'll make that Mexican cauli rice tonight.

And still counting (12,076-12,101)

Pathetique in the school room
sunny days
long walks
step goals met
five pounds down

the wrestle
the birthday song for my sister
heart stirrings
ice cream with sprinkles

 Burger, onion rings, ice cream and song! Happiest wishes!

geraniums in the window boxes

a cat named Violet
good days
familiar faces at church

It was nice to be back at church.

learning boundaries
big blue's familiar sounds back in action

a summer season ahead of us
the Lose It! app
filtering choices through goals
the writers on 66 Books
audiobooks

Rebecca's encouragement, always
family game around the table
clean clothes
the unexpected bounty of Orange Ginger Mint in the canister when I thought we were out
tea in a mug with honey

that man of mine

And still counting (12,035-12,075)

little children playing on the lawn at the hospitality house
one child's happy cry, "Grandma! Grandma! Watch me!"
evening walks with Lanie
good blood pressure numbers
Ruth at my side
focus

Beethoven's Pathetique in the summer school room air
salads at lunch
the way Erin holds my hand when we shop
how she cuddled close to me to inhale my cardigan
weeds to pull

a multi-state video chat book club
a bracelet: hupomeno
Janet's ability to go deep into discussions
Rebecca at the table
ice water

running, because I can
gratitude for where we are
enough
little books on hygge
Heather's words on lies

the dailies, done
the five in my inner circle
their example and influence in and on my life
truth
her selfies with pets

Lord of the Flies on audiobook
and read by William Golding with his delightful British accent
talking to Tracey
a husband who listens well
Ruth

the walk to get the mail with my kids holding my hands
tears over boundaries never established
gratitude that it's not too late
for Tracey, who is standing up for herself at 58
perseverance

fabrics for bunting
a pool cover off and cleaned
rain that held off until we finished
scale victories
non-scale victories

And still counting (12,001-12,034)

friends who generously offer grace
scriptures on 66 Books
the water refill from an older man with dreadlocks and a muscle shirt who loves border collies
the woman at the bank who freely shared her heart with tears in her eyes
for a goodbye that ended in hugs and connection

Drew and his resourcefulness
June goals
words emerging from months of searching: presence, joy, peace, savor
good books in the library bag
two days visiting Cubby

Cubby, our neighbor's dog, and quite possibly one of my very favorite dogs ever

and how he burrowed into Erin's heart
his remembrance of her and his happy cries out
for hard goodbyes
a picture keepsake

longer runs
Nora's view of the canyon
Suzanne's arrival in just enough time
Felix's painting of Jesus
wind gusts of a coming storm

books in the mail
a graduation party
the welcoming embrace of a friend's home
grins all the way home
Erin making pizza

audiobooks
a grocery scavenger hunt

creamy coffee with sugar
side street walks
step goals met

that sweet little pup always nearby
friends at the table for a poetry tea Tuesday

a string performance in a packed room
homeschooling my kids

What matters: progress

I look at the categories and the rankings I gave them back in January: health, friends, marriage, family, work, finances, spiritual, and recreation--each on a scale of one to ten (sad to great).

Three months in, I reevaluated my status, and there was improvement. Progress felt good.

free screens at Walk In Love

But approaching six months in, progress feels great! Not a single category dips below five (and several originally did!). I made a list of what I was letting go of over these months, and what I was saying yes to. What a list, but in the end, I discovered it was important to define (and remember) what I was rejecting and what I was accepting. I think we can accept things we should reject without even realizing it.

"Good fences make good neighbors ..." and that applies for the spiritual neighbor as well. Learning boundaries, and what I want to cultivate in my life shows me what I need to tend and what I need to prune. Sometimes it's a relationship. Sometimes it's my thoughts. Sometimes it's even just access to the things I treasure.

In May, I accomplished more on the dailies than I had any other month, and it felt great. And each month, I've recorded the things I'm celebrating. Stuff like getting my dad's house prepped and sold, Lanie getting a merit scholarship for piano, running a quarter mile and not dying, having hard talks in real time.

But really, the best is looking back and giving thanks at this--I am not in the pit I was in back in January. And while I'm not where I want to be (and likely, I will always want to grow--won't you?), I'm well on the way, and enjoying the journey getting there.

Yesterday I had an errand to run on my dad's behalf. I sat with a banker and explained the situation, his death now a year and a half later, and the process familiar. She shared a story with me, about her father-in-law who found out he was terminal, made all the funeral arrangements to their great relief and surprise, and made his choice about not pursuing any treatment. He gave them comfort and assurances of his peace and confidence of his end. He was dead seven days later.

We talked about loss and preparation and the planning and gifts we leave behind. 

She extended her hand to shake mine when we were finished, and then she embraced me.

"We were supposed to meet," she said.

Death is the great equalizer. Live life with that destination always in mind. You get one chance to craft your story. Make it a story you'd be happy to have live beyond you. 

Even children are known by the way they act, whether their conduct is pure, and whether it is right. (Proverbs 20:11, NLT)

On, on.