Christmas Stragglers

At Christmas time there are several experiences that one can count upon.  The junk mail will enjoy the company of several Christmas cards in the mailbox, the Hallmark channel will ensure that romantic Christmas dramas are available 24/7, and when the Christmas decorations finally come down at least one will not be located until the last crate is stored.  This year there were two...ornaments.

A day or so after the last crate of decorations was back in the garage I noticed two little felt angels hanging on either side of my kitchen window.  One angel has the word "peace" and  the other the word "joy" stitched in yarn across their little felt aprons.

It is the last day of February and when I get home from my trip tonight the little angels will still be on flying on either side of the window.  I think I am going to let them stay.  In a world that seems to have forgotten so much, a little "Peace" and "Joy" seem like two things that are good to have hanging around.

One Year - Remembering Thom

I decided after my brother's funeral that I would post the eulogy I delivered on his anniversary.  Tomorrow will be one year since Thom left the cancer stricken form he carried here below and received a new and healthy heavenly body.

July, 26, 2012 -
I am speaking for both me and Kat today.  When we began planning for this service we wanted to accomplish three things:  We wanted to glorify God as His grace is still sufficient, to honor our brother Thom, and to thank all of you for loving our brother.
The reason we played the song "If I Can Dream" is because it was one of Thom's favorites.  Neither Kat or I can listen to it without smiling - Thom would stand in the middle of the living room, crank it up and sing at the top of his lungs complete with air mic, hip shakes and arm rolls just like Elvis.

Some of you asked why Thom cut his hair.  You know as humans we can be quick to judge eachother by outward appearance but God is faithful and looks upon the heart.  Thom didn't have an employer who provided health insurance and so when he went to the hospital with his long hair and beard he felt like he was looked upon as a drug addict and ne'r do well.  So he had his friend Trina cut his hair and trim his beard so that the people so quick to judge might understand that he was there for pain management not drugs.
That is a lesson we can all take away - you really can't accurately judge a person by the body they wear as they walk around on this earth.  It's not until you know their heart that you can know the man.  Thom was NOT a drug addict and he was NOT a drunkard - he was more like a M&M.  He had a hard cantankerous shell that protected a soft giant loving heart.

When Tommy was four years old he started kindergarten.  That Christmas Daddy took us on the train to shop in Chicago.  We were to each pick a present for Mommy - Tommy chose a baby doll.  On Christmas morning he explained that the baby doll was so that Mommy would not be lonely anymore while he was away at kindergarten.

As  an adult Thom would take what he called a "me day" every once in a while.  He would call into work and then spend the day with Kat.  Sometimes it was to take her to the doctor and sometimes it was just to head to Huntsville and spend the day together.

Thom was fourteen when I graduated highschool and left town so to me he is still my baby brother.  But Kat grew up with Thom and has watched as he grew from the little brother to more like an older brother and then as an adult he became her best friend.  Kat is stronger than she knows; she will make it but when you think of Thom every once in awhile I would appreciate it if you gave Kat a call.

God's grace allowed me time during the last three months to connect with Thom and Kat and our family in a way that can't be accomplished by a weekend visit every once in awhile.  For this I am thankful.  Thom not only looks like our dad but became a man like our dad too.  Thom has reached out to some of the young guys in the family like older men from our church family did for him.

Now it might not have always come across as encouragement because if Thom liked you he was going to give you a hard time and if you weren't getting his message he might get down right cantankerous but he loved you and believed in you and wanted all you guys to be your best.  He will be missed by the men who were more than friends;  you were all his brothers and you know he loved you.

We are thankful for the love and care received from our extended family; Thom got down right spoiled with all of the dumplings, pot pies, soups and treats.  One thing I am learning is that in the end it doesn't matter what earthly goods you have but how you loved that matters most.  All of you have proved that Thom loved well and was loved well by all of you.

Thomas Richard Metcalf  [November 1, 1967 - July 23, 2012]

The First Rain of Spring

I have been waiting all day for the rain to start.  It should have been here much earlier according to the forecast.  Just as the first few drops began to fall I discovered to my delight that this would be the first rain of Spring.

Not that Spring didn't officially arrive on March 21st, but here in the south the cool winter air has lingered longer than it should.  We have had rain, plenty of it actually, but it was winter rain, chilly, wet and without any smell.  You can smell a Spring rain; it smells green and wet and earthy.  Summer rain smells parched and hot and thirsty and in the south it often seems just a few degrees away from boiling water.

This is a new Spring for me.  It is the first one without my brother, Thom.  In April I will remember how that last year we were learning he had advanced stage four cancer.  And through May, June until July 23rd I will remember the heart wrenching and bittersweet weeks we spent together; the three of us, me, Thom & Kat, as we prepared for the unpreparable and depended heavily upon The Lord for strength and grace and the will to do well and carry on.

Thom has been in heaven eight months now; eight months cancer free and living large.  Kat & I carry on.  Today's rain was special.  Like the first few yellow gallons of rain water from the down spout cleared the pollen from my roof; the first rain of Spring washes away the winter from my soul and prepares me for the Spring that will surely come with warmth and blossoms and new growth.  All nature leading by example that it is possible and right and time to do well and carry on.

How are you supposed to do this? - Bracing for the Wave

A couple of weeks ago I shared my cancer and lack of healthcare coverage rant; two situations about which I became passionate and livid once my brother got a heaping helping of both.  I think one can only process so much at a time and then the soul has to rest and brace for the next wave of reality.   

This evening a dear friend of the family posted information on facebook announcing a fund our cousin established to receive donations that will assist with Thom's care.  He began the post with
"As many people know, Thomas Metcalf is dying..." and another wave of reality - the cold, hard, painful kind, hit me. 

I had worked through the cancer part but was not ready to face the dying part.  How are you supposed to do this?  How do you acknowledge that someone is dying when that someone
- signed your 8th birthday card "Lov MOT" (so proud that he was learning to spell his name)
- begrudgingly let his G.I. Joe date your Barbie (until you got a mod-haired Ken)
- promised to turn around, walk out of the church and drive you far away if you didn't want to really get married (that would be the starter marriage)
- shared an apartment with you when the starter marriage ended

How do you do this? I don't know...any suggestions?

First National Bank, Scottsboro Alabama under Gifford's Home Improvement for Thomas Metcalf

CANCER STINKS AND SO DOES THE LACK OF HEALTH CARE FOR ALL

Last week I "tweeted" about the beautiful weather while in Hilton Head for the RBC Heritage Classic; this week was spent waiting with my brother and sister for any tidbit of information we could learn about why this strong, proud man is experiencing intolerable pain.

There are only the three of us, Thom isn't married and Kathy is widowed so we depend upon each other for support.  Thom and Kat are fortunate to live in the small town where we grew up.  They are both very special people who shoot straight and have strong relationships with friends and extended family - the Rodney Atkins song "These are my People" comes to mind - particularly the chorus:

"These are my people
This is where I come from
Were givin' this life everything we got and then some
It ain't always pretty
But its real
It's the way we were made
Wouldn't have it any other way
These are my people"

Our people have been visiting Thom in droves at the hospital and I am sure this will continue when he comes home - believe me every call, visit, and prayer is appreciated. 

Thom is dying from cancer that went untreated due to no health care and his extremely high tolerance for and ability to deal with great pain.  When he could stand it no longer; he sought treatment at an urgent care center who diagnosed him with muscle pain and sent him home with a prescription for muscle relaxers - IDIOTS! No insurance, no tests, give them a band aid and send them home.  Thom went to the hospital and the real doctor who treated him and sent him to the other real doctors at Erlanger Hospital in Chattanooga for treatment have been an answer to prayer.
Thom has a very advanced insidious form of agressive cancer that has spread throughout his body.  He worked a construction job through all of this until a couple of weeks ago.  I can't imagine the intestinal fortitude and sheer guts and determination of my brother.  We come from strong stock but I didn't know just how strong.

We appreciate your continued thoughts and prayers.
Thom is not alone there are others in his same or similar situation throughout the country.  It is time we remember it and do something about it.

Two of my favorite words for 2012 are "YAY" and "YUM."  These two words will be the foundation for my theme for 2012 and it is going to be a VERY GOOD YEAR!  Keep posted and join the journey!!

Why Does it Have to be so Hard?

Do you ever find yourself asking this question? along with who am I?  why and I here and what should I do?  We ask as if something or someone might be able to deliver the answer that will catapult us from the murky waters of indecision onto the path of self-confidence and poise.  Even if your spouse, therapist, or BFF provides an answer it isn't your answer it is their answer for you which has made it to you after traveling through their filters.

Why does it have to be so hard?  Well if you are like me, you keep asking others instead of getting quiet and listening to the woman within, the one with the answers.  Take a few minutes to stop and listen for your voice and the answers will come; the next step will be to believe then do. And try to be yourself every chance you get.

Yay! Yay! Yay!

Yay is one of my absolute favorite words; Yay Me is one of my absolute favorite phrases!
I think it is important to celebrate every opportunity you get.  If you make it to work without honking your horn at the yoyo parked in the center lane of the interstate, celebrate your patience.  If you stopped yourself before plowing through the entire bag of Hershey kisses celebrate your self control.

Let's face it, some days if you want to see your cheering section you better have a mirror handy.  Frequent and enthusiastic celebrations of the baby steps taken in the right direction provide encouragement to try again when stumbles occur.

Look for an opportunity to hand out a Yay to yourself and one other person each day; you might just find out you have more reasons to celebrate than you thought.

When the world says "Give Up" - HOPE whispers "Try it one more time"

Several months ago I saw a painting for sale which read -
Patience with others is LOVE
Patience with God is FAITH
Patience with yourself is HOPE

Sometimes I get so busy trying to be patient with God and everybody (refraining from honking and signing in case they're hard of hearing then trying to "wait upon the Lord") that I am too pooped & frustrated to give myself a break.
Doesn't it seem easier and even a little bit more "holy" to be patient with others? It's easy to get discouraged particularly when we look right past everything we have accomplished and focus upon all that we haven't.

When HOPE whispers "Try it one more time."  Let's take a deep breath and a moment to remind ourselves that we are equal to the task and deserve another chance.  Remember to do your best and be yourself every chance you get and that no one, not  even God, asks more of you than your best.

Class of 1981

This weekend brought to fruition months of planning and preparation as the Scottsboro Senior Class of 1981, celebrated its 30-year anniversary. Time invested to the myriad of emails, schedule juggling, phone calls and planning meetings was paid in full when first sightings of fellow class members rendered shrieks of delight in the school parking lot.

We tossed candy to the little ones lining the street. Fifty-two faces with wide silly grins left the crowd with no choice but to respond with smiles of their own as they watched us - so glad to be together that we didn't mind being drenched in sweat and straddling hay-bales upon a flat bed trailer as the homecoming parade weaved through our town.

It's Sunday now and much later than I intended but the opportunity to spend just a few more hours with my friends seemed more important last night than the sleep I should have gotten for the drive back. I felt I couldn't leave the Scottsboro city limits without finishing this blog; as if the magic and the memory of our Class Reunion might fade with each mile driven east toward home. And so I am writing from top a picnic table in County Park looking across the water at the scenic beauty I took for granted like so many other things while still in school.

A few hours into the Reunion Celebration last night, I felt the need to step aside and just observe. I knew the evening was special and different from any gathering to date but was still surprised as I saw this feeling confirmed on almost every face. I saw a group who were glad to be here, I mean REALLY glad. The kind of glad relief that only happens when you find something you lost but never really knew you had in the first place. The eager high school kids returned with a sense of humility, wisdom and hope developed from 30 years in the "real world." And, an awareness of our own mortality sharpened by the passing of thirteen class members.

This post is written to each of my classmates from Scottsboro Senior High 1977 - 1981, to you I say THANK YOU! You are beautiful exactly as you are and I am proud to be part of you. Thank you for attending, whether it was one or all of the reunion events, thank you. But understand, you were missed at the events you didn't attend; we were less because you were not there.

I look forward to planning and attending our 35th Reunion and encourage you to not wait five more years to say hello. Try in some small way to stay in touch with someone you saw at the reunion. And finally, my friends, do your best and be yourself every chance you get because our class and our world is richer for it every time you do.

P.S. As I promised - Kenny V. YOU ROCK!

Are You Present and Accounted for?

What does the phrase mean? According to Ask.com "This expression almost certainly originated in the armed forces as a response to roll call...to offer assurance that no person or thing is missing."

Maybe it's the work-at-home; instant messaging; conference call; tweet and email world we live in that has made it too easy to "dial in" our participation; sometimes in our own life.

Are you like me? Do you find yourself running forward with the Headline News sound bite of life rather than learning the real story? It is easier to pick a label and be done with it than search your thoughts and beliefs and develop your own opinion. It requires time and effort to consider what you believe and why you believe it. When we allow ourselves to be labeled we forfeit our voice. This type of proxy decision making fosters an "all of us" against "all of them" environment. Taking your own decision and knowing why you believe what you believe generates confidence, conviction and a sense of personal accountability for your action.

The world needs you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made - you have a purpose and a mission designed by God. Are you "Present and Accounted for" or have you been like me and dialing in a few things?

Be yourself and do your best every chance you get!

The NYAB is Back!

I struggle with what to write in this blog. There is so much I believe is important and that I care about that I am often paralyzed and so I do not write anything.

However, "the truth is simple; it's our efforts to avoid it that complicate things" so I took a strong look at the truth of why I began writing Not Your Average Blond; the answer and thus the mission is clear ...ENCOURAGEMENT.

en·cour·age
 –verb
1. to inspire with courage, spirit, or confidence
2. to stimulate by assistance, approval, etc.
3. to promote, advance, or foster

The mission of this blog is to encourage you to discover who you really are inside free from all the "shoulds" "oughts" "labels" and expectations of others and then to be the very best YOU every chance you get.

Now that I realize my mission you can look for encouragement from NYAB!

LOVE EVERYBODY it's not just for Hippies

After catching the updates on facebook this morning, I see a theme that has been repeated on TV, in print and in the streets. Perilous and hatred filled times seem to surround us to the point of overwhelming the human spirit.

It is tempting to be moved to anger, to lash out with louder voices, bigger signs and more hate fueled accusations than the other guy. To give in to an "It's ALL OF US against ALL OF THEM!" mentality.

Can there be any peace today? If so how? I think the answer is an old one, HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE. Not too flashy and certainly not great fodder for a screaming match on the corner of a heated demonstration.

HOPE says that it doesn't have to be this way; FAITH says it will change because I know who holds the future and in whom I believe, and LOVE says I will change, I will do what is right, I will become as wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove. And because I embrace HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE I will educate myself and seek the truth, I will pray and hold fast to the promise that God has a plan for my life and the life of every human being, and having done all I can do I will stand for the battle is not mine it is the Lord's. My job is to prepare, to stand, and to wait upon the Lord.

I am convinced that the only peace we will find is within our own hearts. In our zeal to "represent" we add to the madness and disregard the fact that "ALL OF THEM" believe they are right too.
"LOVE EVERYBODY" is not a whimpy groovy hippy phrase it is a tough as nails call to action that requires a rock hard faith, atomic hope and steely determination to love even "ALL OF THEM." You see love spoken can be turned aside but love demonstrated is eventually irresistible and is the only way to make a difference.

I challenge you to the same challenge I am taking myself and that is think about what you plan to say or do and ask yourself "Why am I saying it? What do I want to accomplish?"
Just like a boat and water, it's not the madness surrounding you that will sink your spirit; it's the madness we allow inside that does the job."

Big Butts and Little Lies

Recently I heard a conversation addressing whether or not it was okay to lie. The old "do these jeans make my butt look fat" defense was invoked and consensus was that is okay to lie and sometimes you have to lie.

I disagree. The truth is simple; it is our efforts to avoid it that complicate things. The truth strips away fear and ego; it leaves only what is real; even when what is real is difficult to accept, to share, or to hear.

So what do you do when your best friend, wife, significant other asks "Do these jeans (that are three sizes too small) make my butt look big?" Do you spare their feelings with a little white loving lie? or do you respond "Yes, your butt looks huge, I believe you need to go up a size or three" - Given those two choices the white lie is sounding better all the time.

But what is the truth and how in the heck can you say it?
"Those jeans are not my favorite."
"Those jeans do not do your figure justice"
"I don't think I like those jeans as much as I like ___ (fill in the blank with some outfit that does not make them look hideous)."
Speak the truth, say it from a place of love; and then take my Dad's advice and "don't tell everything you know."

When Did This Happen?

Earlier this year before the mercury blew out the top of the thermometer here in the south, I was attending a business meeting. During the break while washing my hands and performing the "once over" in the ladies room mirror; it hit me...

I looked at the blond in the chocolate brown Tahari business suit and realized that if someone were to describe me to another they would probably say "you know, that older blond lady in the brown suit" WHAT THE?!? REALLY??? I used to be "that tall girl with long blond hair" then "that tall heavy set blond with a pretty face" (code for packing pounds)and now? Am I really "that older blond lady in the brown suit?" I felt a pang of regret for my lost youth until I asked myself...

When did this happen?
Sometime after I had obtained an education;
married the love of my life;
earned several promotions;
lost a lot of weight;
gained the confidence to try new things;
developed the self esteem to meet new people;
and finally became my own very best friend - I began rockin' this older blond lady gig.

And you know what? I THINK I KINDA LIKE IT!

Consistently Inconsistent

Today marks the fifth day in a row I have gotten out of bed and walked first thing in the morning. I have tried walking before; then a late night, rainy morning, or some other impediment would cause a missed day and I would stop. But, I figure there is some value in starting again because as my Dad would say "it just might take" eventually. When I quit smoking four and a half years ago it was a "quit" in a long series of "quits." I just didn't stop quitting and eventually "it took."

If you are like me; it might help to remember to move toward your goal every chance you get; even if you're consistently inconsistent keep moving; eventually it just might take.

"Mergency" preparedness...

My very favorite job ever was when I taught a three-year-old preschool class. Each morning I welcomed 25 bright-eyed angels and each afternoon I slipped out during nap time leaving their sleepy little heads full of new letters, colors, numbers, etc.

One day after teaching my angels about 9-1-1, Brittany, the pony-tailed class informant came running toward me on the playground yelling at the top of her lungs "Miss Dee! Miss Dee! Ashley fell it's a mergency call 1-9-1!!"

Little kids take what they learn and are ready to use it as soon as possible. They don't analyze, theorize, then disregard in frustration. They trust, absorb and utilize; saving a little time to watch a butterfly or chase a bug along the way. Instead of waiting until I can make everything perfect I need to be a little more like Brittany and run with my new information the first "mergency" I get!

A Lesson from the Dyson

In our house we have the Dyson Animal which is convenient because we also have the Callie animal (our furry child). I am not sure how she can possibly require grooming; based on the fur deposited throughout the house, she should be hairless.

I love my Dyson now, though I was ready to throw it in the trash when we got it 5 years ago. After vacuuming a few times I complained to the Hubs that I wasn't even filling the super duper cyclonic chamber thingy anymore. Being the logical but understanding guy he is, the hubs chose to take a closer look at the Dyson rather than toss it like I suggested. After a few moments, mystery solved. I had not checked any of the connection points you are supposed clean out or at least look at after every few uses. He proceeded to pull junk from every curve, nook and cranny of the machine. Once he finished retrieving Callie's winter coat and half the flower bed, the Dyson's cyclonic thing-a-ma-jig was operating in overdrive again.

When somebody seems different than I would expect - I hope I remember the Dyson's little lesson and look before I toss; because they might be dealing with the junk I put in their path!

Okay, here's the deal...

...I have been wishing I could write like someone else (which is why there hasn't been a post since May 17th). You see I wanted to write the next Twilight - have you noticed the vampire books located near the Twilight display in the stores? None of them are Twilight they are just written by authors trying to write like Stephanie Meyer.

The world doesn't need another Stephanie Meyer it already has one (ouch). Good, bad, or otherwise, I can only write about what I know. And, what I know is that as unique and isolated as I may think I am at times; there others facing the same challenges and fears; that whatever it is will pass and I can choose to either grow through it go through it repeatedly until I learn. Furthermore, anything less or different from my true self will come across contrived.

Do you ever feel the tug to be like someone else? to be different than the fearfully and wonderfully made individual you are? (If not, open a magazine or watch enough television to sit through a commercial break - you will receive plenty of suggestions for what you should be, could be, and would be if you buy their product.)

e.e. cummings said "Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, (and) spontaneous delight..." If you're like me, you could use a little bit more spontaneous delight. Be who you are as often as you can and not only you, but the rest of us will be richer for it.

They Don't Know You

My first grade teacher, Mrs. Jabblow, was a petite brunette with white horn rimmed glasses and a pointy nose to match her pointy toe pumps. Once when I left my workbook at home my Dad brought it to school on his lunch break. (This was before parents needed a DNA screening to enter the building; back when they could walk right up to the class room door and knock.)

When she opened the door my father a husky truck driving sort of guy at six feet four inches filled most of the door way dwarfing my teacher in the process. A boy named Bobby whispered in awe "wow, is that your Dad? He's a giant." For a moment I was the star of the class as the teacher called my name and I walked bravely to this giant of a man who had entered the room.

I had the inside scoop, this wasn't a scary giant, this was my Daddy a big teddy bear with huge callused hands stained with diesel grease and stiff from years of gripping a truck steering wheel. And I was his fishing buddy who scuttled out of bed before sun up to play with the worms and "talk quiet so we don't wake the fish" about important things like monkeys and puppies and why Bobby pulls my hair at school. I was his "go to" girl the next year when my Mom would spend two months in the hospital fighting liver cancer and I was his co-pilot who could fall asleep sitting straight up in the passenger seat of his 18-wheeler within the first ten miles of a trip. To others he was a scary giant and I was a forgetful blond (I started early). But they didn't know us and they were wrong.

It's been 33 years since my fishing buddy and hero passed away. The kindest man I ever knew until I met the Hubs. He is a husky truck driving sort of guy a little over six feet tall who has a scowl that makes those up to no good head in the opposite direction (remember? Shrek "stay out of my swamp"?). But he also has a smile that lights up a room and certainly my heart. And I am his camping buddy who scuttles away every chance I get to sit around a camp fire and talk about important things like our dreams, our future and how blessed we are to have found each other. Some thought we were crazy for getting married after seven weeks and one date. But they didn't know us and they were wrong.

People are often quick to judge by what they see and what they think they know. When surrounded by doubters and critics remind yourself "THEY DON'T KNOW YOU!" and prove them wrong!

Need a Recharge? Gather the Girls....

Guys have always seemed to be pretty good at socializing - they have that whole hunting, fishing, team sport thing going for them so that interacting with other guys is pretty natural. For girls not so much.

Tonight was GNO (girls night out). I have the good fortune to be able to associate with some amazing women on a regular basis. (You might be thinking so what?) This is a big deal for me; when I was young I believed all girls were little catty witches who grew up to become great big ___(rhymes with witches). I believed this for the first four decades of my life and consequently had very few female friends (imagine that).

What I have discovered is that there are a number of women like myself who eschew the drama and pettiness. These women are smart, kind, creative, confident, exciting and going places! I call them women of purpose. Gather a few of these big-girl-panty-wearing get-it-done type of ladies and it is powerful! That doesn't mean you won't run into a few test pilots for the broom company every once in awhile but they stick out and don't seem to stick around.

You never know who you can help, who can help you or what fantastic friendship might be waiting just around the corner - and you never will if you don't turn the corner. If you have a friend who has invited you to a girls night out, luncheon or some other type of "ladies only" function I encourage you to go; it's a great way to recharge your batteries, realize you're not alone and where to find the best margaritas!

It's Kind of Like "GLEE" but with Old People...

I love the show GLEE, (FOX) each week brings the trials and tribulations of the hot and the not set to music. The pilot featured songs from the 80's so I was hooked from the start.

My class reunion is this fall. The Hubs would rather have root canals without Novocain than attend his own class reunion. Because he is a wonderful guy he has offered to go with me to mine but I let him off the hook. He doesn't know these people and would be bored to death. You see the Hubs and SHREK are a lot alike all he wants is for everyone to "stay out of his swamp" so why put the guy through my class reunion. (Luckily for me and Callie - we have lifetime passes to the swamp.)

Maybe the reason people shy away from reunions is that they don't want to have to be the person they were in high school. Who does? Hell I didn't know anything and was afraid of everything. I had low self-esteem and kept to myself a lot. I never went to a homecoming dance, prom, or even had a boy friend. I was editor of the school paper and marched in the band. The nice girl with such a pretty face.

That was then, This is now and NOW I am a 40 something rip roaring my way into becoming 50 something. I figure as long as I am not dead, in jail or "on the lamb" I have something to celebrate. I am really looking forward to my class reunion, I am on the reunion committee and am excited for every new email address we get in. I am excited to spend time with the men and women from all walks of life and all corners of the country who trudged the halls, marched on the field, and sat in the classrooms with me back in "Scotts-Vegas" circa 1977-1981.

Think back to high school and how much you have grown, overcome, accomplished, and changed to become the person reading this blog today. Congratulations! Take a moment to celebrate, you deserve it! And if you are like me and have a class reunion this fall enjoy it...it's kind of like GLEE (in a good way) but with old people who happen to ROCK!
(GLEE - FOX.com)

Being

If you've ever heard Zig Ziglar speak you've heard him say "you have to be before you can do and you have to do before you can have."

Be, Do, Have - sounds reasonable; for example you have to BE trained medically to DO the work of a doctor and HAVE the career/rewards/etc. of a doctor. But what about the less obvious applications?

Forget DO & HAVE for the moment, I can only handle one thing at a time; so let's start with BE. Did you know "be" has 31 entries in the dictionary (www.dictionary.com)? The first definition is to exist or live. Yesterday it was a fabulously beautiful May day here in the Southeastern United States. The sun was shining, a cool breeze danced across the blades of grass and since the humidity has not yet reached the customary 150% the temperature was lovely as well.

Throughout the morning I had been watering the lawn strategically.
This means I was moving the sprinkler from one dead patch of grass to another and Callie, my furry child, was supervising. After a few trips she had the routine figured out. She had about five minutes to enjoy the weather while I turned the water off, moved the sprinkler, turned the water back on, and repeated the process until I was satisfied that the next patch of dead grass would receive sufficient water fall.

As soon as I opened the door Callie would bolt to a yet unsprinkled patch of dead grass in the sun. She would stretch out, take a few rolls and collapse lying there enjoying the sun and being. It didn't matter that in a few moments I would finally get the sprinkler situated and she would be called back into the house; just being able to roll in the grass and enjoy the day for a few moments was enough.

The Hubs (short for my wonderful husband and the love of my life!) enjoys BEING when we are camping. You can see the cares just slip away as we settle into a camp site. Yesterday, I decided to do a little BEING and joined Callie on the grass. I sat cross-legged Indian style, closed my eyes and faced the sun allowing the breeze to blow my hair. Remember as a kid when you used to lie in the sun with your eyes closed and you could see colors of pinks, oranges, purples,etc. as the sun shined on your eyelids? I did that, just sat there. It was amazing!

After about ten minutes my neighbor came out of his house and walked through the yard (I think he was checking to see if I was okay - my side yard is visible from their kitchen window). For good measure I did it again two more times later in the day. Sometimes I get too busy DOING and too worried about HAVING that I go for long periods of time without actually just BEING.

When is the last time you took time to exist, live, BE? Try it even if it's just for a few moments each day; take it from me and Callie, it's amazing!

Post Script to "Leaving the Farm"

I have rethought the farm exodus proposed in my March 27th post. In light of my deep conviction that it isn't always what we are doing but how or how much we are doing it that is the problem.
A recurring theme for me is balAnce. It isn't difficult to accept that we can have too much of a bad thing; as a matter of fact I prefer to have none at all. But you can have too much of good thing too. For example,too much chocolate and not enough exercise and you will gain weight (as unfair as it sounds you must believe me - I have empirical evidence threatening to spill over my waistband.)

I find the little Farmville game relaxing and a little relaxation is a good thing (key word - little). The better opportunity for personal growth is to learn to balAnce work and relaxation in effective quantities. Finish a post, write a speech and reward myself with a few minutes of "farming". I have decided to reactivate the farm (however the island, the yovillage and the mytownship shall remain history). Will I really manage my time and not ride that virtual tractor into oblivion? The answer will be obvious in the future activity or lack there of on this blog. Is there anything you might address with the greater challenge of balancing rather than just eliminating it from your routine? ....uh you can leave a post....my crops are almost ready.............

Nuh-uh Who Said?

If you were an only child you probably didn't hear this statement until your first play date or first day of kindergarten. If you had siblings then you heard it as soon as all of you learned to talk. Child one declares "I am going to ___" (fill in the blank with any task a child might attempt). Child one is met by a chorus of "Nuh-uh Who Said?" Which is sibling slang for "Who gave you permission to think you could attempt said feat?" Child one then must confirm that the permission was given by Mommy, Daddy, Babysitter etc.

In grade school student one states her goal and must divuldge the teacher who granted approval to proceed; in college a Professor or Dean provides this key. Finally, adulthood - she's sitting in the board room delivering the presentation in which countless hours have been invested and her peers demand "Who authorized this approach? Did you include approved copies of the final draft in the presentation packet?" Which is grown up speak for "Nuh-uh Who Said?"

In the Bruce Cockburn song "Pacing the Cage" there is a great line "I've proved who I am so many times the magnetic strip's worn thin." We learn to seek approval from others and provide these credentials repeatedly upon demand. Do we also learn to choose this temporary and often fickle approval over the quiet confidence gained through self-approval and acceptance?

Maybe not. But, if you find yourself worried more about what others think than what you know about yourself then you are like me, and I have a challenge for you. The next time you have an idea followed by self-doubt ("nuh-uh who said?") then outloud reply "I did! So shut up, sit down and hang on because this train is leaving the station and I am not looking back!"

Leaving the Farm

A dear and trusted confidant provided a friendly nudge for me this evening (thank you Ms. W - you have no idea how timely you are.) She reminded me that it is almost May and the Blond has not produced a blog for April! (Hmm can't be a writer if you don't write sweetie).

I am ashamed to admit that since my last blog post I have achieved Master Farmer status on Farmville (a time wasting devil application available through facebook). As a matter of fact I won a yellow School Bus Tractor that plows nine fields at a time AND earned the mastery of grapes sign. Why? you may ask...I have been hiding. I preferred the controllable busyness of Farmville to the risky and uncontrollable potential for accomplishment in the real world.

How many times have you been really busy but didn't seem to get anything accomplished? It is easy to confuse activity with accomplishment. It's more comfortable to busy ourselves with things we can control rather than getting down to business, sticking our necks out and risking failure. I really believe the key to a life of greatness is in doing the things that are easy to do but easier not to do and doing them every stinking day. For me this is making myself write to gain the experience and develop the discipline of putting my thoughts into words each day. It means realizing that people kind enough to take the time to read my blog are not judges on the pulitzer committee so stop riding that virtual tractor and get on with it.

Success is the persistent and consistent pursuit of a worthwhile goal or dream. It's like quitting smoking. If you tried to quit smoking for life, the task seems insurmountable and so you buy one more carton of cigs and decide to quit another day. However you can choose to breathe smoke free for one minute and then another minute and another until you have quit for an hour, then a day, and now four years for me.

Now I am not suggesting we eliminate every activity that does not catapult us into the next level of achievement. But you can make choices that advance you toward your goal on a consistent basis. If you are like me you probably have a "Farmville" of your own. What keeps you busy rather than getting down to business? Just maybe it's your time to leave the Farm too!

Sunday Confessional - Put Up or Shut Up!

Within a week of the closing ceremonies of the 1994 Winter Olympics I had the privledge to hear Olympian Gold Medalist Dan Jansen speak. Jansen said one thing that night that has both haunted and dogged me ever since. As Jansen described it, the race was won on the mornings that he didn't want to get out of bed to train and the days when he would double over vomiting from the strain he put on his body during the heat of summer - training for a winter event that seemed light years away. He attributed his ability to achieve his gold medal in the 1,000 meter race to "things that were easy to do but easier not to do".

Jansen's statement was simple. The truth is simple; it is our efforts to avoid it that complicate the situation. The consequence of speaking about your dream aloud is that someone might hear it. And if you are silly, bold or desperate enough to direct that spoken dream to someone in particular it is bound to be heard. Speak it repeatedly and you multiply the result; write a dang blog about it and you might just pass the PNR (point of no return) So now what? You either "Put Up or Shut Up" which calls into play a truck load of qualities you might not have planned on needing on such a large scale (like determination, character, integrity, knowledge, skill etc.,). A plethora of "things that are easy to do but easier not to do."

I find myself at a crossroads. There a people who know that I want to be a writer not many really probably less than 200. And, there are people who have read this blog as well as my Breadcrumbs blog, probably less than 25 at this point. Writing is work. Even if I have natural talent I have to develop it and that is work. I have a husband, a job, a dog, a Farmville habit (for those familiar with facebook) all which require time and then there is American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, reruns of the Rock of Love...the list can sprial right down into oblivion along with my dream. With the exception of the first three items (Husband, job and dog) which are reasons to be the best I can be - the rest are just activities I can use to not think about writing.

We are quick to allow eachother to "slide" when it comes to "things that are easy to do but easier not to do". We tell someone we are going to loose weight and the next time we see them (sporting an extra 5 lbs. instead of losing the 10 lbs. we declared would be gone) they don't say "hey you gain weight? thought you were supposed to lose 10 lbs." Of course they don't, that would just be poor manners. Actually of course they don't because during the interim they have made and broken a hundred similar promises to themselves, they understand.

So, confession - this is more difficult than I thought, it takes time and it is work. The choice is mine to make (and don't fool yourself, regardless of what it is you ALWAYS have a choice). Shall I just delete my blogger accounts and not mention this silly notion of writing to anyone again? Everyone will understand and will have the "good manners" to never mention it to me. But, a little piece of me will have died, a little spark that was starting to flicker will dim and a possibility will have been missed. Or shall I put the big girl panties on and get on with it?

Since our actions speak louder than words you will have to see if there are any new posts...meanwhile, what promises have you made to yourself or dreams have you spoken aloud? What things are easy to do but easier not to do for you? I encourage you to go for it...you won't be average if you do and you won't be alone!

The Turning Point or as Oprah Would say "My Ah-Ha Moment"

Thursday, November 19, 2009, started as most of my days that fall. The realization that my Boss, a wonderful mentor, would retire at the end of the year was a big change. I had created a comfortable little rut for myself and not only was my mentor leaving but my job had a newly acquired expiration date attached to it. The tanking economy had reached home, MY home and my change meter was on overload. So after another restless night I awoke to the familiar sensation of being overwhelmed. Remember the Flintstones? My husband was now married to Schleprock "wowzy wowzy woo woo". (Bless the Hub's heart - he is a saint!) Like every other morning, I forced myself out of bed, stumbled down the hall; followed the dog to the yard so she can perform her find-the-perfect-place to pee dance. Then take a shower and drag myself out to the car to face the day...little did I know things were "fixing to" change.
Instead of heading to the office I was attending a leadership workshop courtesy of said Boss/Mentor. Upon entering the conference room (where a chipper little Michael Buble tune was blaring) I was instructed by the guest speaker to choose a hat from a large pile on the board room table. This woman was just a little too perky for me and she was wearing a huge (like six inches in diameter huge) lime green and hot pink button that read "Enjoy Life: This is NOT a Dress Rehearsal!" - Determined to stay firmly planted in the throes of my despair, I was NOT amused. Sparky the speaker however, had other plans...the idea was to pick a hat that represents you and then explain why. There were top hats, hunting hats, and even a Carmen Miranda tutti fruity hat. (I thought "This is ridiculous I am in crisis and you want me to pick out a stinking hat?") Annoyed at this seemingly frivolous exercise, I rifled through the pile tossing aside hats advertising sports teams, tourist traps, businesses and favorite past times and then I found it...a simple cap with a plastic disc-like base glued to the crown. It was black like my mood and broken. Obviously something was meant to be attached to the top; this was MY hat, the perfect representation for my life - it just felt right.
As the hat explanations traveled around the table it was my turn. I launched into my explanation "As you can see this is a plain baseball cap in basic black. It does its job to keep the sun out and isn't very flashy but if you notice there is a plastic base on top where something is supposed to sit. Like this hat I am pretty basic, I get the job done and in my life there is something missing. Something that I am searching for; I am not sure what it is but when I find it I will know and whatever it is it's big and it's going to be great." (Okay, that felt weird but it was the truth and I didn't feel like making up some clever story so I ran with it.)
"Sparky" stressed that nothing happens by accident and as she passed by each of us she said to pick a card from her "inspiration deck" and read the message that was "meant for us". I thought it was a little flaky but hey I was desperate so why not? The message received to my left was "golden silence" for the attorney who found it challenging to pause for effect or response in conversations. To my right "timing" was the message for the compliance officer who had accepted a new position the evening before...(okay this is getting eerie - I had not turned my card over yet) I waited just a moment longer and read my card "Harmony is Yours" What? The message affirmed the baby steps I had been taking to regain some balance and perspective. The card also admonished "Remember your journey and how you became who you are today..." Then came the kicker...."Write a book or magazine article about your life." It was at that moment with a knot in my throat and tears in my eyes that I dared to accept and commit to the idea that I am a writer. Now just a few weeks after the workshop I pulled myself up by the bra straps,joined Toastmasters and started blogging.
....Oh, and do you know what was missing from the top of my base ball cap? A shiny mirrored disco ball! Look out world I am finding my sparkle too!