Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”--Oscar Wilde
What is your passion? What gets your mojo flowing? What fills your body and brain with lust and excitement? What makes you have to have it, do it, see it, need it, read it, touch it?
I'm not talking Clintonesque passion for Monica that left stains on the blue dress. Or Spitzer lust for escorts that toppled the governorship and led late-night top ten lists. And not the desire to be twenty-one, free and in search of love...for the hours between midnight and 6 .a.m. anyway. Certainly not the desire for a Beck's brewskie, Lay's potato chips and Bison French Onion--best in the world-Chip Dip (http://bisonfoods.com/.) Or not even the passion we feel for cheering on our kids, sitting 3 hours in the pouring rain for little league baseball, facing high winds and wind chills below zero in a Buffalo springtime.
Zen, zeal, bliss, joy, freedom to face a life that's yours, your captaincy, your course, your purpose. What's driving your ship? What are your core values that makes your days fly by?
Questions, lots of questions...are there any right answers? We would like to think it's only one thing, like I was born to be a nurse. Or I am a painter. I used to search endlessly for my "one thing" like in the movie City Slickers. I would read the help wanted section of the newspaper and scan the Internet web sites, trying to box myself into one job category. After all, they tell you to read the job descriptions and put the words the headhunters are using in your resume. This way when your are scanned electronically (oh baby, it's feels so good, do it again) that you are picked as the one.
It all comes down to the magic words. "Amazing, funny, talented, creative Mom desires position that encompasses her stellar skills that enable her to get each twin to the right ball park at the right time in the correct uniform (excluding the times the socks disappear, preferring to spend their time in an orgy with the knee-his and boxer shorts) while simultaneously paying bills on-line, getting the barfing dog to the vet and derailing the Skateboarding eldest on his pursuit of demolishing my house and himself. " Somehow the job descriptions don't match my true talents.
Passion, I have decided, is what really needs to drive your life, your career, your Momdome, your fatherhood, your sphere of reality and your corner of the universe. Pursuit of knowledge. Quest for newness. Curiosity. It's the joy that fills your days because it feel right. It's your thing and your path, whatever it may be. It's what leads you load 5 kids in the car and drive 3 hours to see the Rock and Roll hall of fame, even when your parents tell you "Well, you shouldn't be doing that. You are unemployed." And it's what causes you to call your best friend at 5:45 A.M. in the morning and say, "I'll meet you for happy hour tonight. Have my wine ready." and then drive 550 miles to meet her in Richmond, Virginia, with only an email and no maps to guide you. And it's what causes you to know you will be all right because you are finally on your path. Your zen. Your thing.
I like to write. I don't know what that means, but I will keep doing it. And find my way with it, whatever that may lead, and wherever it takes me, and with the people who guide me along the way. And I will read books. And take spinning class. And dance out loud to pretty music at 10 a.m. or sing along with joy because I love the Iris Video from Goo Goo Dolls (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsK90GWBVLY).
Passion, what does it mean? It's simply what makes you you. Whatever makes you feel at home and at peace, is what you should do. We all know the way, but sometimes, our other adult choices get in the way, like the home we own or the place where we live. We think we can't, but that's the problem in itself.
We need to be like the little engine that could, "I think I can. I think I can."
Say Yes. If you haven't read the book, "The Yes Man," a bibliography by Danny Wallace, Get it. It's so funny. And true. The movie comes out in December. And it's really what we need to remember. Follow your passion. Say yes.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Evil Bunny
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
I saved the bay window again. It's only the 1000Th time I've had to save it since moving in. A few times I missed. I still have one broken pane from last fall when a tiny little dachshund walked by and Molly went crazy, jumping and barking like the little princess was getting her last bit of food. One foxhound mutt meets a 5 pane bay window, and sometimes we lose.
Tonight, it was the evil bunny. Molly has a piece of yard that is hers. Sometimes the bunnies come right there and poop, just to torment her. Then when she next comes out, she goes nutso. You'd think someone was robbing us. Sometimes they frolic just outside the limit of her tether. They love to see her go berserk, and they gently chew away, grazing on our too long grass. Tonight, the bunny was bold. She moved just a few feet from the window where Molly sits in my great-granddad's horsehair chair. She was gulping on the dandelions that Maverick still had not mowed down. I came over and calmed Molly down, looking to see who was walking by and driving her crazy. No little doxie, just a bunny.
I never watched a bunny eat anything but grass. I have a yard full of lovely white flyaway dandelions. She would calmly sniff a few dandelions, taste the tops of some, and when she finally found one she liked, she would bit it from the bottom and suck it in like a child eats spaghetti, stopping at the flower top. There she would sit, with the flower sticking out of her mouth, chewing away, then suddenly, Plop! the top would get sucked in also.
It was funny to sit and hold Molly still and calmly watch the bunny eat. It made me think of all that window has been through. It's a lovely oak window from the 1960's. When we moved in, it was solid white, and the seat of the window had brown linoleum tiles glued on it. I have fond memories of weeks spent stripping it down during Maverick's nap time, while listening to the OJ trial. And I even remember watching our lady mail carrier walk-by while they announced the verdict, and running out to tell her.
We just finished the window and remodeled the living room when Maverick threw the remote at it and broke a pane. I immediately signed him up for baseball even though he was only 18 moths old!
Next abuse of the window was when the twins were wee babies. 2 a.m. feeding time. I went upstairs and picked them both up from their cribs, came down,got the bottles from the stove and went to the living room to sit in the lazy boy by the bay window to rock them. I would sit with one on each leg, on a pillow, heads propped up with a bottle in each mouth. So I was grabbing pillows, holding babies and bottles. and bending to sit in the chair, all while half asleep. I didn't aim right, and hit the back of the chair while pushing back, not down. Next thing I know, I hit the chair, it flips completely over with me and babies and bottles, snapping up and getting stuck on the window ledge. I'm afraid to try and get out, so I spent 10 minutes trying to wake sleeping DH by screaming my head off. He comes running finally, hitting lights as he goes to see where I am--and 2 lights in a row blow out as he flips the switch. Man, what a night!
Maggie and Luke took out a window while practicing baseball. I was just heading to the door to tell them to turn the other way in the yard, when Luke threw a hard ball and Maggie ducked, letting the ball sail right into the living room. We barely got the window fixed, when the October surprise hit, knocking out 2 more windows. We fixed those and Molly took out another one. Fixed that, and then she cracked another one. I was just saying it's time to fix that one, and here comes the bunny.
And as I sit quietly telling you about the window's adventures, when the little neighbor children come over to get the twins to play. Molly goes nuts, I get up from writing this to grab her again, and you guessed it. She pounced right through as if it was empty and leaped right on the little kindergarten girl.
Maybe I need stock in a glass company.
I saved the bay window again. It's only the 1000Th time I've had to save it since moving in. A few times I missed. I still have one broken pane from last fall when a tiny little dachshund walked by and Molly went crazy, jumping and barking like the little princess was getting her last bit of food. One foxhound mutt meets a 5 pane bay window, and sometimes we lose.
Tonight, it was the evil bunny. Molly has a piece of yard that is hers. Sometimes the bunnies come right there and poop, just to torment her. Then when she next comes out, she goes nutso. You'd think someone was robbing us. Sometimes they frolic just outside the limit of her tether. They love to see her go berserk, and they gently chew away, grazing on our too long grass. Tonight, the bunny was bold. She moved just a few feet from the window where Molly sits in my great-granddad's horsehair chair. She was gulping on the dandelions that Maverick still had not mowed down. I came over and calmed Molly down, looking to see who was walking by and driving her crazy. No little doxie, just a bunny.
I never watched a bunny eat anything but grass. I have a yard full of lovely white flyaway dandelions. She would calmly sniff a few dandelions, taste the tops of some, and when she finally found one she liked, she would bit it from the bottom and suck it in like a child eats spaghetti, stopping at the flower top. There she would sit, with the flower sticking out of her mouth, chewing away, then suddenly, Plop! the top would get sucked in also.
It was funny to sit and hold Molly still and calmly watch the bunny eat. It made me think of all that window has been through. It's a lovely oak window from the 1960's. When we moved in, it was solid white, and the seat of the window had brown linoleum tiles glued on it. I have fond memories of weeks spent stripping it down during Maverick's nap time, while listening to the OJ trial. And I even remember watching our lady mail carrier walk-by while they announced the verdict, and running out to tell her.
We just finished the window and remodeled the living room when Maverick threw the remote at it and broke a pane. I immediately signed him up for baseball even though he was only 18 moths old!
Next abuse of the window was when the twins were wee babies. 2 a.m. feeding time. I went upstairs and picked them both up from their cribs, came down,got the bottles from the stove and went to the living room to sit in the lazy boy by the bay window to rock them. I would sit with one on each leg, on a pillow, heads propped up with a bottle in each mouth. So I was grabbing pillows, holding babies and bottles. and bending to sit in the chair, all while half asleep. I didn't aim right, and hit the back of the chair while pushing back, not down. Next thing I know, I hit the chair, it flips completely over with me and babies and bottles, snapping up and getting stuck on the window ledge. I'm afraid to try and get out, so I spent 10 minutes trying to wake sleeping DH by screaming my head off. He comes running finally, hitting lights as he goes to see where I am--and 2 lights in a row blow out as he flips the switch. Man, what a night!
Maggie and Luke took out a window while practicing baseball. I was just heading to the door to tell them to turn the other way in the yard, when Luke threw a hard ball and Maggie ducked, letting the ball sail right into the living room. We barely got the window fixed, when the October surprise hit, knocking out 2 more windows. We fixed those and Molly took out another one. Fixed that, and then she cracked another one. I was just saying it's time to fix that one, and here comes the bunny.
And as I sit quietly telling you about the window's adventures, when the little neighbor children come over to get the twins to play. Molly goes nuts, I get up from writing this to grab her again, and you guessed it. She pounced right through as if it was empty and leaped right on the little kindergarten girl.
Maybe I need stock in a glass company.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
The Job Fair
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
If a man is called to be a street sweeper,he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted,or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry.He should sweep streets so well that the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."- Martin Luther King -
Heading to a job fair today. Lots of opportunities to hear about jobs that are available. Uplifting to think of all the possibilities at every company represented there. Challenging to make yourself heard in a chorus of thousands of lost souls looking for their next great job, the next team they want to run passes for, the next symphony for their music to play in.
Mass market hiring can be fun and interesting. When Maggie and Luke heard I was going to a job fair, their faces lit up. Will there be rides? Sure, a Ferris wheel soars you to new heights as you search for the next job. And a roller coaster bounces you up and down, twisting your stomach and shaking up your brain cells as you wait in line to speak to recruiters. And the tilt-a-whirl throws you around and beats you senseless when you whine "no one will hire me." And there is a dunk tank you throws balls at, yelling, "I am NOT unqualified! My skills do meet your needs! I am a good fit!" And they sell grown up job searching candy called "Tums", "Ibuprofen" and "Wine."
No, really Mom, are there rides at the job fairs? Or maybe do they sell crafts and toys too? Or how about cotton candy? No, just selling hope, faith and inspiration. A new job, a new beginning. It's like opening day for baseball. You just never know if this might be your year.
What team uniform will I be wearing? I'm open to all possibilities. Well, maybe not the brown and orange polyester uniform I wore in high school and college while working at Bells supermarkets. That one, I think should be retired. 5 years as a cashier is enough for anyone. We used to spend our nights joking about letting the customers check themselves out....
If we only knew.
Inspiration comes to us all the time. We just need to stop and listen. And believe in ourselves, and our passions, and go with the team that fills that bliss.
Maybe I'll find mine today.
If a man is called to be a street sweeper,he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted,or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry.He should sweep streets so well that the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."- Martin Luther King -
Heading to a job fair today. Lots of opportunities to hear about jobs that are available. Uplifting to think of all the possibilities at every company represented there. Challenging to make yourself heard in a chorus of thousands of lost souls looking for their next great job, the next team they want to run passes for, the next symphony for their music to play in.
Mass market hiring can be fun and interesting. When Maggie and Luke heard I was going to a job fair, their faces lit up. Will there be rides? Sure, a Ferris wheel soars you to new heights as you search for the next job. And a roller coaster bounces you up and down, twisting your stomach and shaking up your brain cells as you wait in line to speak to recruiters. And the tilt-a-whirl throws you around and beats you senseless when you whine "no one will hire me." And there is a dunk tank you throws balls at, yelling, "I am NOT unqualified! My skills do meet your needs! I am a good fit!" And they sell grown up job searching candy called "Tums", "Ibuprofen" and "Wine."
No, really Mom, are there rides at the job fairs? Or maybe do they sell crafts and toys too? Or how about cotton candy? No, just selling hope, faith and inspiration. A new job, a new beginning. It's like opening day for baseball. You just never know if this might be your year.
What team uniform will I be wearing? I'm open to all possibilities. Well, maybe not the brown and orange polyester uniform I wore in high school and college while working at Bells supermarkets. That one, I think should be retired. 5 years as a cashier is enough for anyone. We used to spend our nights joking about letting the customers check themselves out....
If we only knew.
Inspiration comes to us all the time. We just need to stop and listen. And believe in ourselves, and our passions, and go with the team that fills that bliss.
Maybe I'll find mine today.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Mom's Day Extended
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
"Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world." -- Kate Douglas Wiggin
Another beautiful Mother's day come and gone....why is that day the fastest 24 hours in your life? Right up there in terms of speed with your wedding day. You barely get into the day and it's over. All the love, joy, and peace slip right through our hands. I think all the best day's in life are like that; Fluid and fast, joyful and just; happy and hurried. Days we wish we could bottle up and open when we need them.
My mother's day started with Maggie standing next to me, breathing, waiting for me to open my eyes. She insisted last week I take her to buy a GIANT piece of poster board. And new markers. Old ones just wouldn't do. She kept bugging me. Called my on my cell phone twice on the night we were going (using up the minutes, what is she thinking?) I was out with old co-workers boozing it up (okay, it only takes one wine for me to get silly, thank the Queen for buying and getting me there.)
Maggie finally gets me to croak What? through my sleep crusted eyelids and teeth coated with cotton balls. Open your eyes Mom. And I do, and she is holding this giant card she made from the poster board. Inside it says "Best Mom Award" and she drew a trophy. She also sewed me a pillow in pink satin, which says "Mom of the Year, 2008." And she made me a pink bracelet from rubber bands, all the rage in the 6Th grade.
So sweet. The other two did not grace us with their presence until 11. So much for declarations of love and breakfast in bed from those two sleepy heads. DH ran twice to the store to get me my treats and paper, and bought me bike shorts. YES! Bike shorts. I had no idea you could feed a third world country for the price of bike shorts and a heart monitor. Amazing, the cost. But oh, the comfort! My bottom screams every time I go to spinning class, but I am getting addicted. Why else would I torture myself at 5 in the morning? It couldn't be all the pumped guys that work out at that time, could it? Couldn't be riding behind them for 60 minutes and watching their gluts go up and down?
No, I am sure that's not it. After all, I am a Mom.
Oops, gotta go. Time to go to gym and spin. I mean, darn, I have to work out again. What torture. Oh the drudgery. Oh, why would I do this to myself?
It's the tough part of being a Mom. Working out at 5, so you can be home to get the kids up at 6. Oh, how we suffer!
"Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world." -- Kate Douglas Wiggin
Another beautiful Mother's day come and gone....why is that day the fastest 24 hours in your life? Right up there in terms of speed with your wedding day. You barely get into the day and it's over. All the love, joy, and peace slip right through our hands. I think all the best day's in life are like that; Fluid and fast, joyful and just; happy and hurried. Days we wish we could bottle up and open when we need them.
My mother's day started with Maggie standing next to me, breathing, waiting for me to open my eyes. She insisted last week I take her to buy a GIANT piece of poster board. And new markers. Old ones just wouldn't do. She kept bugging me. Called my on my cell phone twice on the night we were going (using up the minutes, what is she thinking?) I was out with old co-workers boozing it up (okay, it only takes one wine for me to get silly, thank the Queen for buying and getting me there.)
Maggie finally gets me to croak What? through my sleep crusted eyelids and teeth coated with cotton balls. Open your eyes Mom. And I do, and she is holding this giant card she made from the poster board. Inside it says "Best Mom Award" and she drew a trophy. She also sewed me a pillow in pink satin, which says "Mom of the Year, 2008." And she made me a pink bracelet from rubber bands, all the rage in the 6Th grade.
So sweet. The other two did not grace us with their presence until 11. So much for declarations of love and breakfast in bed from those two sleepy heads. DH ran twice to the store to get me my treats and paper, and bought me bike shorts. YES! Bike shorts. I had no idea you could feed a third world country for the price of bike shorts and a heart monitor. Amazing, the cost. But oh, the comfort! My bottom screams every time I go to spinning class, but I am getting addicted. Why else would I torture myself at 5 in the morning? It couldn't be all the pumped guys that work out at that time, could it? Couldn't be riding behind them for 60 minutes and watching their gluts go up and down?
No, I am sure that's not it. After all, I am a Mom.
Oops, gotta go. Time to go to gym and spin. I mean, darn, I have to work out again. What torture. Oh the drudgery. Oh, why would I do this to myself?
It's the tough part of being a Mom. Working out at 5, so you can be home to get the kids up at 6. Oh, how we suffer!
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