For good

I was listening to a beautiful song from the amazing Broadway musical Wicked.  I was overwhelmed with emotion and flooded with images of people who have changed my life - have changed me - for good.  I drove down the freeway - music blaring, tears streaming - singing at the top of my lungs and feeling more gratitude than I knew what to do with.  (Quite a sight, a 48 year-old woman cruising down the freeway singing and bawling in a Ford Explorer with the plates HPYSNPY.)

I got home and began writing thank you notes to people who have had an impact on my life.  I quickly realized I could quite possibly be writing thank you notes for a very long time.  I believe that everyone we meet has the potential to influence our lives, and so many amazing people have had a transformative effect on mine.  As I stated before, the gratitude for these people and their profound influence was overwhelming.  How can I possibly express this gratitude to each person?

This question hung ominously over my heart as I felt, for a moment, that I might be unable to convey the love, compassion, and appreciation I have for so many incredible souls.  Then I came back to the lyrics.  "Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."  My living and moving forward in life as the person I am - knowing that much of it is what I have learned from you - is the best way for me to express my love and gratitude.  To be and live as the best version of myself, and to remember that - like a stream that meets a boulder - my actions, words, caring, etc., have an impact as well.

To those of you who have changed me "for good," thank you.  I do believe I have been changed for the better . . .

Closer to the heart

"And the men who hold high places, must be the ones who start, to mold a new reality, closer to the heart.  The blacksmith and the artist, reflected in their art, forge their creativity closer to the heart."  Neil Peart

I believe that each one of us can work to live closer to our hearts.  I think it is as simple (and as challenging) as paying close attention to our words.  Words have such power, not only when spoken or written, but when they are withheld and unexpressed.

Words are tools.  And like most tools, used improperly or without consideration, they can become dangerous and even destructive.  They can be used as weapons and raised in defense.  What could our world, our reality be if we all honed our skills with these tools and used them to build and connect?  Living closer to our hearts?

For me, I will spend today in my heart and be cognizant of the words I choose and how I choose to express them.

Reality check

I AM DYING . . .



. . . to tell you something . . .



YOU ARE DYING.


We are mortal beings, certain of very little in this life we have here on Earth.  Death is certain.  And, we are all moving toward it.  Only always.  A few of us have been given an amazing gift - we have acquired diseases, conditions or circumstances that have brought with them an acute awareness of our mortality and the fragile and unpredictable nature of life itself.

How fortunate that I have an opportunity to live like I am dying?  To write a bucket list, not to stick it in a drawer for "later," but to do and check off amazing things from it with enthusiastic and supportive friends?  How blessed that I have a daily reminder to speak my truth?  To let people know how I feel?  To listen?  To love?  To look for and find the divine in myself and everyone around me?  To do my best every day to reflect back the divine I see, the beauty I find, the love I feel?  To attempt things that intrigue me?  To face things that scare me?  To push myself to do, learn, be, laugh, express, try, listen and love more?  Death is not nearly as frightening as failing to live.



This moment . . . right now . . . this day . . . is what you know you have.  It is all any one of us has.  What  are you feeling in this moment?  What are you grateful for?  Do yourself a favor and share your answers with someone you love.  Get your bucket list out or start one and get about the business of crossing things off.  Live!  Live like you are dying . . . you are.

Black Friday

I love holidays.  What is a holiday, other than a regular day that we (as a society or parts of a society) have agreed (mostly) to celebrate as special for a specific reason? And why not find something . . . like gratitude, veterans, independence, trees, the Irish, flags, important people in history, etc . . . to celebrate and make special? I think it's fabulous!

I understand that not everyone loves holidays.  Some people become grumpy, others greedy, and some suffer stress and anxiety.  I hear complaints of commercialism and religious discrimination.  There are grievances by some of time spent with difficult family members. I do not mean to be uncaring or disrespectful, but let go of all of that and find something, anything about it to celebrate.  Don't like tradition?  Buck it!  Don't like family obligation?  Duck it!  Don't like your shirt tale out? Tuck it!  . . . I can see this is heading in a bad direction.

Okay, as I was saying . . . holidays are simply great excuses to be loving and joyful, to spend time with people you love and enjoy this journey we are all on together.  If someone else's idea of holiday doesn't work for you, create your own new ideas and traditions.  Celebrate everything in life that makes you happy and express the things that help you find peace and joy.

For some folks, today is a holiday . . . Black Friday.  Official kick off of holiday shopping, fabulous sales, huge unruly crowds of coupon wielding women, bumps bruises and expletives . . . but for me, Black Friday is perhaps the best of all holidays.  It is the day I revel in my gratitude hangover, eat the best leftovers in the world, laugh with people I love and find everything I want to celebrate throughout the looming holiday season.  And, the day is even named appropriately (though I like to call it Ange Friday.)

Happy holidays!

The art of listening

I have always been fascinated by art, in all its' forms, and enamored by those who can master any part of it.  I have tried my hand at most artistic pursuits and find that I am best tailored for the art of admiring art.  Most of my artistic endeavors ended badly.  (My father might disagree.  He has a gorgeous ashtray that is supposed to look like an elk on a mountain that I made him in 3rd grade.)

Recently I have learned a lot about the way I listen . . . or often, don't listen.  I am practicing listening without jumping ahead in my mind to where I think they are going or what they might say.  I am practicing really hearing the words and feeling the emotion behind them without thinking of my next question, comment or clever reply.  It is sobering to realize how much conversation and connection I miss by I let my thoughts get in the way.

And so, I am in heavy pursuit of claiming and nurturing the talent of listening.  Please be patient with me if we are engaged in conversation.  And, please give me an elbow to the ribcage if I start thinking my one-liners are more important than what you are saying.  I may not be a sculptor, (though my ashtray kept dad from smoking all these years,) but I have hopes that I will become a fabulous listener.

Ain't it heavy?

Recently, I have had an opportunity to take inventory of my possessions.  I have been slowly "downsizing" my stuff and things and parts for the past ten years, so I was surprised to find just how many items I still considered to be mine - owned by me.  How do we own things?  How do I own things? Why do I own things?

When you look up the word possession, you get the basic definition: "holding or occupancy, either with or without rights of ownership.  To have in one's control."  Then you run into words like acquire, acquisition, pursue, attain, obtain, retain, stash, stuff . . .   Crazy, the things we do own, want to own, and, even crazier are the things we will do to have them.  And when we have them, what does that mean?  If it simply means that the objects are under my control, is that what I really want in life?  Control?

So, my partner and I decided to truly downsize.  We gave away about 70% of our "possessions."  How many waffle irons does one need?  How many blankets?  Hopefully we won't have 40 people randomly show up at our house wanting to crash warmly on the floor and then eat waffles together in the morning.  We are no longer set-up for that scenario.

I learned through this "cleansing," that it is not just material things that I have, want, or pursue as a possession.  As I cleaned out the closets of our home, I took the opportunity to clean out the compartments of my heart . . . those that long to obtain the love and approval of others, that want to cling to those I love and hold onto the relationships I have with them.  But, just like every material thing we think is ours, we really cannot own anything.  It comes down to control.  I de-hoarded my needs and desires to control anything or anyone.

As the list of my belongings got shorter and shorter, my thinking became clearer and my spirit became lighter.  Everything I need, I already have.  Anyone need a quesadilla maker, or rather temporary control over one?

I've got your number

I've never been good at math - but I did go to Springville High School, so . . .  Anyway, I've recently been made very aware of how many numbers we deal with on a daily basis.  Phone numbers, drivers license numbers, social security numbers, personal identification numbers (and those who say PIN number can bite me,) account numbers, addresses, blood alcohol content (again, Springville High,) and the list goes on. 

Pick up a newspaper and we are inundated with statistics and facts revolving around numbers.  We keep track of our money (some of us better than, well, me,) our net worth, our debt . . . When we are healthy we might track our exercise time or weight-lifting capabilities, heartrate, blood sugar, cholesterol level . . . When we are sick, the list of numbers can be daunting.  Whether a statistic you are bucking to prove is wrong or a white count you are hoping comes down, they are still only numbers.

I am making a conscious effort to deal with fewer numbers these days.  And the numbers I am choosing to monitor are things like the number of times a sunset has moved me to tears this week, or the number of times a five year old makes me giggle.  Numbers, ultimately, only have the power we assign them.  I wish my bank would get on board with this!

Spare change

It seems to be natural for us humans to resist change. I know that I am guilty of being a creature of comfort, and change is usually accompanied by a disturbance in comfort level. When I was a kid, even changing the television station meant a change in comfort, seeing as we had to get up and walk to the set and turn the knob. I feared change as a child - and not just changing from Bonanza to The Carol Burnette Show. My Dad would tell me, "you can't stop things from changing. Things change. It's up to you if they get better or they get worse. You can put in a little effort and make them better, or you can just let them get worse on their own." Not being one to listen the first time (or second . . .) I tested his theory. He was right.

It is said that while we may fear change, we love progress. I am all for progress. In fact, I welcome progress with open arms. My heels, however, are furiously trying to dig into the comfort of what I know. So today I turn to gratitude for change in an effort to embrace it fully and see the opportunities and lessons it brings as welcome gifts and a chance for even greater comfort.

I kicked the day off by listening to David Bowie sing about Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. And, I found a great line that rings true for me. "I watch the ripples change their size but never leave the stream of warm impermanence." Change happens . . . and that's a GOOD thing!

Glass half full

My friend used to call me Pollyanna when she wanted to get a rise out of me. Though I am not a fan of confrontation, (and will do almost anything to avoid it,) I couldn't help myself from defending my position of positivity. I would go down swinging. Every time. Without ever having the thought I might lose. Again.

My positive outlook has been challenging to maintain for the past few months. Perhaps it is the economy or the state of the world . . . perhaps I have too many Alanis Morissette songs in my iPod. Regardless of why, it has opened my eyes to how crucial it is - for me - to have a positive attitude. And I would love to extend a challenge to anyone who might stumble upon this rambling text. Take the Ange top 5 challenge. Take four people with whom you are having some sort of stress and write down what you see as their top five positive attributes. Then write what you feel your top five attributes are. For the next five days, focus on one person (of you and the other four) each day. Look at them through the lens of of their top five, not the filter of their faults, mistakes or baggage. Find something to be grateful for! I guarantee you will see positive changes in your relationships :D

I see your rose colored glasses, and I raise you a pair of ruby slippers . . .

Simply the best

I have always considered myself to be a good friend. To me, that meant available, compassionate, loving, giving and kind - and that looked like me "being there," listening, consoling, laughing, being helpful, giving gifts and expressing love and gratitude. "Friend" is a badge I have worn with honor, and "Best Friend" has been a sacrosanct appellation worn with humility and uttered with respect.

As a society, we have come to define best friend as your "go-to," the one who knows your deepest darkest secrets and the most intimate details of your life. The one who can finish your sentences and knows how to order for you in a restaurant. The one you laugh with and cry with the most. The one who walks in when everyone else walks out.

I have recently redefined what best friend means to me. A best friend is the friend who knows your soul and the morals that define you, whether they know the stories of your life or not. A best friend is the friend who tries on the burdens you struggle with before offering consolation. A best friend is the friend who stands in their truth and asks that you do the same. A best friend is the friend standing quietly beside me offering courage as I contemplate crossing the barriers of my own making, knowing they cannot cross it for me. A best friend is the friend who sets aside judgement to embrace all of who I am, not just my brilliance. A best friend is the friend who is there to help me manifest who and what I am in this world, not in the role of cheerleader or counselor, but as a soul-mate who is on the same journey. A best friend is the friend who is authentic, even when that realness might seem harsh or detrimental. A best friend is the friend who knows my weaknesses and doesn't ignore, diminish or exploit them, but accepts them as part of my life lessons. A best friend isn't, as I have always thought, the person picking me up and brushing me off when I fall - they are the friend allowing me to pick myself up, supporting me by holding the very best version of who I am in their heart with overwhelming love and compassion. Thanks besty . . .

11.11.11

People have been talking about this date for a long time . . . Many believe it is important in a global, spiritual or Universal way. I am just anxious to see what comes of a day drowning in expectations and brimming with possibilities.

My hope for today is very much like my hope for every day - that I will be conscious, connected, grounded, loving, compassionate, kind and open. That I will meet others where THEY are and see their brilliance and divinity. That I will embrace each challenge as an opportunity. That I will be quick to forgive and tenacious in loving. And, that I will find many reasons to laugh . . . loudly.

What are you hoping for today?

Only Love

I've been accused of many things (some of which I am not allowed to discuss as part of my plea agreement,) but one thing that I am guilty of - which I will never regret - is overusing the words "I love you." I understand that the more these words are uttered from my lips, the less meaning, weight or impact they might carry. But that is a risk I am willing to take. I want to leave this world having loved as deeply as I am able, and having conveyed that love to those who take up residence in my heart. I am banking on my ability to portray my love in my actions, so that when I tell you I love you, it feels like a favorite pair of shoes, a welcome bit of news or a flash of Universal truth. But regardless of the meaning, weight or impact I feel or intend, the love is all that matters in the end. I love you.

Timing

I have heard it said that everything happens not a second late nor a moment too soon . . . but rather, right on time. I would like to believe that this is true - for a couple of reasons. First, if that is true, then life as it is unfolding right now is absolutely perfect. Second, it means that procrastination is all part of the plan and not a character flaw.

I have also heard it said that timing is everything. Which is true in many circumstances . . . jokes, for instance, or dancing (or a combination of the two that we often get to see on Dancing With The Stars.) But if this is true, then it puts the perfection of reality back in question and me back in the hot seat for procrastinating.

I have also heard it said that to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. So I find myself questioning my sense of timing. How do I know when to act, when to withhold, when to express, when to question? Can I trust myself to know? Is that my business, or God's business? Is this a responsibility I share with the Universe?

Yes, I have heard it said that everything happens not a second late nor a moment too soon . . . but rather, right on time. I have also heard that the Liberace Museum in Vegas is a good way to spend an afternoon, so . . .

Breaking the surface

A dolphin caught in a tuna net, struggling for air, must act against instinct. Their natural propensity to surface for oxygen will only serve to ensure their entanglement in the net, to set their fate. To free themselves, they must dive deeper into the darkness, into the unknown, moving away from what they need most.

When I am able to free myself from the stagnant air my over-wrought thinking creates in the bell jar of self-pity I sometimes enclose myself in, I can follow my heart to a deeper level. It is farther from the light, unknown and even fear-inspiring, but it is where the deeper truths await discovery. It is, as I have recently experienced, where I must go in order to free myself from the entrapment of my own flawed thinking.

Once the dolphin dives into the deep, it is able to see the snare from a better perspective and can move to find free passage to the surface where life-giving oxygen and freedom await. While the deep can be intimidating, it is where I found my deepest truth. It is where I found accountability for being the creator of the net my heart was enmeshed in, and where I found the strength to reconnect with my compassion.

Surfacing for air, playing in the waves, celebrating the new-found freedom. But I know that the deep still holds many lessons . . .