Do the things you used to talk about doing but never did. Know when to let go and when to hold on tight. Stop rushing. Don't be intimidated to say it like it is. Stop apologizing all the time. Learn to say no, so your yes has some oomph. Spend time with the friends who lift you up, and cut loose the ones who bring you down. Stop giving your power away. Be more concerned with being interested than being interesting. Be old enough to appreciate your freedom, and young enough to enjoy it. Finally know who you are.
When we focus on our pain, our ache deepens.
As my children leave the protected parameters of the bay called childhood and enter the wavier seas of adolescence, I'm starting to get seasick.
Running fills the cup that has to pour out for others. Running feeds the soul that has a responsibility to nourish. Running sets the anchor that limits the drift of the day. Running clears the mind that has a myriad of challenges to solve. Running tends to the self so that selfishness can subside.
I love the big fresh starts, the clean slates like birthdays and new years, but I also really like the idea that we can get up every morning and start over.
I find significance in all kinds of small details when I run; I'm hyper aware of my surroundings, the sensations in my body, and the thoughts running through my mind. Everything is clearer, heightened.
It's easy to lose sight of God when life is sweet and easy, but there is something awesome about despair, and it is the closeness of God when we are at our weakest.
Disappointment is a sticky one, because no one can steal contentment, joy, gratitude, or peace - we have to give it away.
When everything is moving and shifting, the only way to counteract chaos is stillness. When things feel extraordinary, strive for ordinary. When the surface is wavy, dive deeper for quieter waters.
It's not only moving that creates new starting points. Sometimes all it takes is a subtle shift in perspective, an opening of the mind, an intentional pause and reset, or a new route to start to see new options and new possibilities.
Typically creative people are usually not clock-slaves or list-makers, so the idea of enforcing goals and deadlines can be somewhat daunting.
We either live with intention or exist by default.
We all have our ways of handling fear and managing trying; jumping in or climbing down, a direct approach or a delay, joyful or miserable, a spirit of adventure, or God help me, get this thing over with.
Circumstances in life often take us places that we never intended to go. We visit some places of beauty, others of pain and desolation.
I realize that I am typically vulnerable only when and where and how much it suits me. I can choose my writer words and even go back and edit.
Sometimes when we have so much going on, it's easy to forsake the things that seem like personal luxuries - for example, our morning run. But it isn't a luxury at all, when it is the thing that allows us and empowers us to face everything else.
Parents walk a fine line between discipline and grace - values have to hold even when circumstances change or call for compromise or compassion. It's the ultimate challenge to be both firm and fluid, soft and strong, yielding yet rock solid.
I think, as most of us do, I put such high expectations on myself that this spills over onto other people. And not everyone is wired this way. Some people can shrug expectations off their shoulders like a cardigan, remaining cool and breezy. Others wear them like a parka with a stuck zipper, hot and stifling.
I want to be intentional about my freedom - in choosing it, honoring it, and protecting it. One of the best feelings I know is feeling truly free.
Times of transition are strenuous, but I love them. They are an opportunity to purge, rethink priorities, and be intentional about new habits. We can make our new normal any way we want.