The Art of Being Human

cover art I have spent the week hanging out, listening to hours of music, lingering in bed, seeing friends, and doing some soul searching. I've wrestled with angels this week. I've had wonderful meals, stimulating conversations, and have cried more than once.  I have seen grace and love amidst it all. I watched a toddler who had a melt down and his apologetic mother be comforted and reassured by the people in a long line at the grocery store. A man ran to the other end of the store to get a wreath when I was in line at Home Depot after he heard me say that I wish I had picked on a five dollar wreath he and his wife had in his cart. People wave at each other in my neighborhood. I heard, "Let me get that for you." "I've got that." "Thank you." There is goodness and love in my world. I don't know where I stand or what I believe about a lot of issues right now, that would be the wrestling with angels bit. I do know that we are all par...

          I read aloud to my fourth graders every afternoon to wrap up the day. This month we are reading Into the Land of the Unicorn by Bruce Coville. Cara is a young heroine who takes a literal leap of faith and lands in Luster, home of the Unicorns. Early in the story she gets into a fight for her life with a snarky creature who wants the amulet she has been entrusted with.   When she wakes up she is being healed by a unicorn who tells her that she has one wound that is harder to heal, a spiritual wound. The reason I read Into the Land of the Unicorn is for the lessons in moral courage and choice.  I’ve read that book dozens of times, but I have never noticed that particular line before today.   “You have a spiritual wound that is much harder to heal.”   Without thinking I asked, “What is a spiritual wound?” I didn't expect very much from the question. They were only fourth graders after all, average, squirmy ready for the day t...

 Several chapters ago in a long life of stories I took forever and a heart ache to end a bad relationship, mainly because the sex was so good. When I did call it quits my friends were generous with their support and their advice. Number one on their list of things to do, other than stop dating drummers, was to love myself.  I thought it was an empty feel good platitude that didn’t really mean anything; mainly because I didn’t know what it meant. I’m older now. It’s taken me that time and a few more stories to understand what it means to love your self.  It’s not what I thought. It doesn't involve 3 D cell batteries for one thing, although that may help keep you away from the odd drummer who comes calling. It also doesn't involve shoes, even though any woman worth her weight in mascara knows that you can’t go wrong with the right pair of shoes. No, loving yourself is different than self gratification, however that looks to you. Self love is one of the healthiest t...

He didn't notice me at all. He was too young for that, a tow headed baby boy tucked securely inside a bright green sling carried by his mother, his blue eyes filled with joy at the world passing by.  Delight and exhaustion, that happy mixture known only to young mothers and foolish lovers was etched across his mother’s face.  Walking along side them was a woman my age that was stunningly beautiful in a way that Madison Ave. and Hollywood have yet to recognize.  Dressed simply in jeans and a tee-shirt, her eyes full of love and a tender smile her only make up. One hand was on the small of the mother’s back and the other caressed the tow headed infant’s head in the universal symbol of cherish and protect. We smiled in recognition although we had never met and crossed the street going in opposite directions. I grinned all the way home, delighted with the blessing I had witnessed. I let the goodness of that moment fill me up until I was like a cup running over.  ...

    He was recently single with a wouldn't die dream of the man he wanted to be when he was seventeen.  With money to burn and time on his hands he went out and bought all the trappings of the life he thought he wanted and never got to have.  It went down hill after that.  I guess he didn't know that a hat does not make you a cowboy.  His carefully cultivated life that shouted “Here’s who I am”  ended up being a mile wide and half an inch deep, nothing he could sustain or wanted to when it was all said and done.  The sad part is that he is so busy telling the world who he wants to be that we never get to see who he really is. And neither does he. Then there’s Rachel. Rachel is a seven year old wildish way child who knows who she is because her mother lets her Be.  Not too long ago she dressed herself in purple shorts, an eighties headband, added a school award  and two paper leis for good measure then struck a pose tha...

I have a long history of failure with maps. An orienteering course while I was in college comes to mind. I successfully convinced four experienced members of my team that I knew where I was when I didn't.  They had to send a truck for us.  I don't know why they listened to me anyway because I almost never knew where I was going and got lost more often than I didn't.  Another time I was leading a paddling trip on The Chattooga River,  I came out of the woods with my canoe on my shoulder a very long way from where I should have been.  These stories, and there are more, don’t surprise anyone who knows me.  It’s not unusual for the person I’m meeting somewhere to call and without a hello, or howdy do ask, “How lost are you?”  Recently, I found myself in uncharted territory, a new and completely unexpected beginning, and I wanted a map. I wanted someone to say, “Over here, not there, go right, not left.”  I wanted a label for my unknown destinat...

Mention the word adventure and you might think of whitewater rafting, travel to exotic lands, or para sailing over the Mediterranean.   I've done all those things and more. I've taken a moonlight walk in Bali, and had a picnic in  Paris . I talked to an old woman in  Morocco  about the meaning of life and played with kindergartners in  China . My life has had no shortage of adventures. I’ll let you in on a little secret though, life is an adventure all by it's self when you have the right attitude, no passport required. Some of my favorite adventures have happened right here in my hometown, living my every day life. The key to adventure, or just plain fun for that matter, is your attitude. Having a sense of wonder and delight in the world around you, a willingness to be curious and do something new is what makes something fun. It doesn't matter where you are.When I lived overseas I was always surprised and saddened at the number of people who never...

I say a little prayer whenever I see a certain kind of little girl. I'm talking about the little girl who is being completely herself rather it’s wearing a pair of red cowboy boots and a pink tutu or strutting around her room singing at the top of her lungs; Nashville here she comes. You probably know a little girl like her, or maybe you used to be like her yourself. The world can be hard place  for a free spirit, wild child who has the audacity to sing her own song or chart her own course in the world.  While she is young we smile and applaud her cheeky sass. Then slowly, but surely she gets the message that it’s best to be a little less. A little less brash, a little less bold, a little less of herself because she makes people uncomfortable. It takes a strong spirit for a girl to withstand the onslaught of well meaning advice that would tame her wildish ways and make her less than her best. It’s not any easier being a free spirit, wild child as a woman either. ...

A friend of mine is writing her memoir. Frankly, I’d would rather poke my eye out with a stick and run screaming into the woods.   An honest story told with respect takes guts, and that’s what a memoir is, a story. We need stories. Story tellers used to be highly regarded in communities because despite our apparent differences we are the same in more ways than we will ever be different. Stories remind us of our common humanity. We need to hear stories and we need to tell them. Through the healing power of stories connections are forged and strengthened.   Without our stories about who we are and how we came to be we sink into sound bite lies that bind us in shame for who we think we aren't. Hearing stories keeps shame at bay. Stories are the equivalent of human road signs that say, "You are not alone!" "Me too!" "It gets better." "Hang in there." Stories infuse our lives with meaning, like salt in a stew. But, first we must get pas...

I was preparing for a zombie apocalypse in a pretty serious way. Serious enough that I called Revel to ask him how he thought I should store the 100 gallons of water I getting ready to buy. You know, in case the zombies come. He didn't miss a beat. “I got all the water you need. Don’t worry about it.” Just like, that he reeled me back in.  He did suggest that I ease up on binge watching The Walking Dead, though. At least I knew my zombies weren't real. (Mostly).  A friend of mine, on the other hand is convinced her zombies were real. Darlene is dating a guy for the first time after a nasty divorce. Her zombies are the fear that he will cheat on her or that he’s not being honest. She’s so busy preparing for the zombies that she can’t enjoy the journey to where ever this new beginning is leading her.  She’s convinced that something bad is right around the corner and by God and all that’s holy she’s going to be prepared this time!   The answer is not to be b...

The Art of Being Human: Let's Be Honest

 Emily, who is one of my favorite kids, walked into my room after school shaking her head.  She had just gotten into trouble for lying and wanted someone to take her side. When I asked her if she lied she said, "I have to be honest, sometimes I lie."  It was all I could do not to laugh.  If that doesn't sum up the paradox of being human, I don't know what does. I've been know to lie a time or two and I bet you have too. We all want to believe that things are better than they appear to be. We want life to be easy. We want not to have to endure an unbearable situation one hot minute more. So, instead of being honest,we put a pretty coating of sugar on it and call it what it's not. We lie to ourselves in the worst way to avoid feeling the raw, white knuckle fear that being vulnerable can bring. Yeah, it's not just you. It's all of us. I've done my share of sugar coating, self delusion.  It never works. It was only when I wiped the clouds from...

    The greatest joys are in the small ordinary moments of our lives. It’s watching someone we love sleep, a cup of tea on a cold day, a thick mat when you step out of the shower. I’m finding that it takes courage to live in the fullness of these moments these days. Not because they don’t exist, but because we are bombarded with messages that tell us who we are and what we have is not enough. We are told in a hundred different ways that we don’t measure up, that the world is not safe, and something bad is just around the corner. It’s fear at its most insidious best. And I get it.  I get that we’re afraid, and I understand why. I’m not living under a rock. When I did my 90 Day No Negativity Challenge I learned one thing for sure, it’s either fear or love, baby. Fear is a soul sucking joy stealer that brings out the worst in people. We destroy our bodies and relationships, get into debt up to our eyeballs, and we test our poor children to death.  We finger poi...