A Tribute of Beauty

“Begin with the beautiful, which leads you to the good, which leads you to the truth.”  

-Bishop Robert Barron

For years, I’ve enjoyed listening to the sermons and talks of Bishop Robert Barron through his Word on Fire ministry.   He’s personable, intelligent, and a gifted orator.  Beyond all of that, he comes back again and again to a theme that resonates deep within me:  Beauty.

He believes that the key to evangelizing in the current culture is bringing the beautiful to the world - that we are so limited in our experience of true beauty on a day-to-day basis, and we’ve forgotten how to find it in amongst the “drudgery” of our daily lives.   It’s quite possible that those of us in our 20s-40s were never taught how to even look for beauty.  We grew up in concrete buildings, with modernism and xeroxed workbooks.  Efficiency was the name of the game, not beauty for beauty’s sake.

This comes to mind today, as I sit outside, soaking up the sunshine.   Winter is coming, but today is warm and sunny, and spending every minute outside is what is called for.   I’d finished my chores inside the house, cleaned up from lunch, and had headed out to the back yard with the little ones.    The big kids got sent to go “explore the woods” on our property, without preschool tag-a-longs.   

The preschoolers and I set up an obstacle course in the backyard, and as I sit, I watch them giggle and play in the warm sunshine.   My eyes are drawn to the flower box just to their left.   The previous owners of our house were gifted gardeners, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching the blooms roll around the yard (nothing blooms at the same time, so we’ve had constant waves of flowers all summer long).   I don’t know what everything is (“gifted gardener” will not be something said of me in years to come), but I know that I like and appreciate the work that they’d put into making this yard a work of beauty.  

The flowers are simple - pink and green.   I’m not sure where we are in their life cycle, but they just recently began deepening to a gorgeous pink color and catching my eye every time I look out of the window.

They’ve also caught the eyes of dozens of bees.   As I sit there, I am treated to a show of at least two dozen bees dancing throughout the blooms, accompanied by the music of my children’s laughter.

******

I never really know what to say when this anniversary comes around.   September 11th.   This day will forever hold a place in my memory, and recall moments of fear, nausea, anxiety, and grief.   I will forever remember the newsreel from that morning, the blank eyes of all of us students, as we walked through campus, unsure of what to do.   Do we go to class?   When we get to the lecture hall and realize that class was canceled and we were instead all watching the constant news coverage on ginormous screens….do we stay or do we go back home?  What do you say when you make eye contact as you walk along the sidewalk?   It was surreal and it was horrifying.

….and yet all around, there was beauty, still calling out to us.   A juxtaposition of the ugliness of evil and the beauty of goodness:  a brilliantly blue sky behind a burning building.   A warm embrace in a street filled with debris and death.   First responders laying down their lives to save the innocent, covered in bodily fluids and dirt.   Flowers blooming along the street where clouds of smoke billow.   Candles at prayer services, chasing away the darkness.

For a brief moment, there was the beauty that can only come from unity.  From love.   From peace.

Beauty never disappeared, even in the surprise attack of evil.

******

I sat there this afternoon, under a similarly brilliant blue sky.   Not a cloud to be seen.   I listened to the innocence in my children’s giggles and voices.   I watched the simplicity of nature, exhibited in the dance of the bees in front of me.

I wondered about this thing, this Beauty, displayed in my backyard.   This steady, unescapable force of goodness and truth.   The unfailing simplicity of a love note from God.  His Truth and Goodness, illustrated for us all to see.

I worried how blind we’d become to it, this Beauty.   How often do we rush through the day, with our eyes closed to the simple goodness and truth surrounding us?  

How much better of a tribute could we give the ones lost in an attack of darkness that day, than to illuminate our world with the power of Beauty?

How much more could we teach our sons and daughters, when discussing the horrible, tragic events of September 11th, if we allowed the beauty of our world to shine through?

We could show them that the powers of darkness will never overcome the wonder, the glory, of light.   The beauty, goodness, and truth will always be victorious.

How many of those battles can we win by simply recognizing the beautiful in our daily lives?  By allowing it to be in our focused view for a few minutes every day?

******

Please join me on a quest to seek Beauty today, as we grieve in remembrance of that tragedy.  

Share your moments of goodness and truth, in written form or in pictures.   Send them to me, or leave a comment.   Share them on social media and let that candle burn away a little bit more of the darkness.

“The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives.”  Albert Einstein

Don’t grow up today.

To Know and Be Known

The other day, I stopped on a friend’s post on Facebook while scrolling through my newsfeed.   Her son had been tasked with taking a survey of adults by his teacher at school.  His question for all of us over-18-year-olds?  

 “What is the most serious problem in the world today?”

I read through the responses, and wasn’t surprised to see some incredible societal ills in the answers.   Racism.  Poverty.  Genocide.   Starvation. Bigotry.  Socialism.  Selfishness.

None were all that surprising - it’s no secret that around the world, various communities are dealing with the horrible implications of these problems.  People are getting hurt.   Lives are being lost.   Inequality seems to be the name of the game.   Around the world, millions are being treated with a lack of dignity and justice.

I kept thinking about that question all day, though, as I went about my chores and tasks.   All of these problems aren’t new to us humans - we can read through history books to see the same stories told, over and over again.   The only real difference is often just who the actors in the story are.    

The same injustices, the same violence, the same pain.

It brought to mind something a friend of mine once said,  which she attributed to her husband.   

“The deepest desire of any human being is to know and be known.”

I couldn’t help but wonder how much more progress we could make in the elimination of these problems if we took his statement to heart:  the deepest desire of any human being is to know and be known.

I think, honestly, my friend’s husband’s statement is the true answer to the question posed on Facebook yesterday morning.   The most serious problem today is that we’ve forgotten the deepest desire of any human being is to know and be known.

How many times do we brush off what someone else is saying?   It’s a common complaint in our house, with growing numbers of teenage boys.   They listen to the first few words of our statement or request and assume they know the way that the statement or request is going to end, and act accordingly……only to find out after the fact that they were wrong and did the wrong thing or didn’t get the information that they needed.   It’s incredibly frustrating as a parent, but I wonder…..how often are we adults guilty of doing the same thing?

In today’s world, it’s so easy to go through our days without actually really *knowing* anyone, isn’t it?  We have great superficial knowledge of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people, but how many people can we say we really, truly *know*?    Parents, how many of us are guilty of making assumptions about the desires and wills of our kiddos, wanting to know who we want them to be, not who they really are?

I know I’m guilty of all of that.

I often justify it by rationalizing that it’s okay, I’m an introvert (seriously through and through, I’m an introvert), so I don’t really need to *know* that many people to be comfortable or satisfied.   I have a core group of 3 friends and a husband, and that’s enough to “fill my bucket.”  I don’t feel this deep need to form deep relationships with a ton of people.  Four is good for me, thanks!

But….is that really it?   Do I really have to form a deep, abiding friendship with someone to really, truly know them?  

As I thought more about it yesterday, I came to the conclusion that no, I don’t have to form a “bosom friend”  with everyone (yes, I’m referencing Anne of Green Gables.   Deal with it.  I’m a homeschooling mom.  We do these things).  That’s not the only way to know or be known by another human being.

I don’t have to form a lifetime friendship with everyone out there in order to know them.

What I have to do is this:  I have to listen to them.  Truly listen to them.

Just like my teenagers and how their lack of listening causes problems later on for them, my lack of listening to those around me is contributing to the problems facing the world today - those answers listed on Facebook yesterday.

When someone tells me their experiences or their opinions, do I truly listen?   Or instead, do I just hear the words, formatting my response in my head?    

Everything that they tell me is a little piece of the puzzle in getting to know them.   Every time I listen, truly listen, another piece falls into place.

It’s so hard to really listen to anything in today’s world, isn’t it?  There’s so much noise, so much distraction.   Alert tones, flashing lights, stock videos, sound bites, memes.   It’s all there to distract us - to keep us from truly seeing the person in front of us (or behind the computer).

I wonder what would happen if we said, “No.  I refuse to be distracted.   I commit to listening to you - even if I don’t agree - and take the time to allow myself to *know* you and *be known* by you?”

We won’t end racism or poverty or selfishness or starvation or bigotry or genocide or ________ in a day by listening to the person in front of us.  

But we will know them and be known by them, and I can’t help but imagine that by doing so, we will chip away at the problems facing the world today.   

One human being at a time.

Get out there, friends.  Your deepest desire in life is to know and be known.   So is your neighbour’s.   So is your Facebook friend’s.   So is the person’s in the school drop off line.

Go know them.   Let them know you.

Let’s change the world for the next person we see.

Have a good weekend, friends.  

"I Felt Trapped in a Machine of My Own Making"

***First of all, holy smokes, y'all.   Sunday's post is over 7K views.  That might not be a lot to some of you more experienced bloggers, but it's absolutely crazy to this little ol' mom blogger.   Thank you for visiting, friends, and welcome to the Circus!  Take your time and make yourself at home!***

The other day, I was listening to a TED radio hour podcast while working on my day-to-day chores.  It's a guilty pleasure of mine - when no one is around or the kids are happy and playing, I will plug in an earphone and listen to a podcast of my own choosing.   This episode was titled "Comfort Zone" and it was from way back in April.   During the podcast, they were speaking with Tim Ferriss, an entrepreneur and podcaster in his own right.   I was mindlessly completing my tasks, listening with half an ear, when something he said brought me to a standstill:

"I felt trapped in a machine of my own making."

I seriously froze.   I'm pretty sure that my hands even froze in the air, mid-task.   This simple sentence resonated deep within me, all the way down to my core.

How many of us feel the same way?  Trapped in a machine of our own making?

The monotony of daily life.   The endless loads of laundry and chores to complete.   The taxiing our kids from one activity to another.   Maybe even a job that we hate.   A schedule that's causing us to rush through the day, exhausted by bedtime, and not even really paying attention to what's around us?

Maybe it's the machine of social media - always having to be more, to do more, to compete.  

A grinding machine, constantly whirring, constantly buzzing, constantly pushing you to your limit.

If you're anything like me, it is definitely a machine of your own making.

One thing builds on top of another: one commitment, one job, one "yes", one more hour in the office, one more activity, one less hour of sleep sacrificed to yet another chore that you ran out of time for during the day.  Before you know it, you're trapped in the machine.  

Guys, this machine does *not* care about your wellbeing, and definitely not the wellbeing of your family.

My machine was a combination one - I guess I'm really good at multitasking.   Our schedule had gotten out of control and I was spending 2+ hours a day in the car, driving kids to various commitments.  I was volunteering on multiple different fronts.   Mike's job had him working and gone like crazy (12-13 hour days, plus 24-72 hours per week on call), and we couldn't afford to take any kind of pay cut and still pay the bills.  Our health - and the health of our children - were all  suffering.

It's why we moved - it was a chance to make a clean break, and start again.   We blamed a lot of the staying home and not getting involved in things after our move on the flu season (and it was partially that - it was *so bad* near us, and the idea of getting that sick again was/is terrifying to me, and I'm already starting to feel the panic about this coming year's flu season - pray for me!), but it was also a bit of a deliberate choice on our part.    It was a way to slow down, to be truly present to each other, and recover from that machine we'd been trapped in before our move.

I'm starting to get nervous about this coming school year - a high schooler, a middle schooler, an elementary schooler, and two preschoolers.  Gymnastics and skiing.  Music lessons 3 out of 5 weekdays.  A husband who still works crazy hours, albeit better ones than the old job.    I am nervous about losing my ability to focus on my health - I've come such a long way since moving here and I'm nervous that I'm going to backslide under the new schedule.   

With a goal of being proactive, I've planned out 6 weeks of lessons, and designed a visual schedule for the little ones to hopefully get a good flow going each day.    I've ordered lunch boxes, and plan on packing lunches every night (or assigning the lunch packing to a big kid every night) to make each day be a little bit easier on me.   My goal over the next few weeks is to prep a bunch of freezer meals so I can pre-make dinners for the first few weeks of school.   Even as I try to prepare, I feel my old friend Anxiety whispering that I won't be able to do it all, I won't be able to keep the perfect schedule, that I'll fail someone: myself, Mike, the kids, heck, even the chickens.

But you know what, friends?

I will fail.   Over and over again.  I know I will.   And as that anxiety rises about not being perfect, I've been trying hard to remind myself that I will *never* be perfect, and that's okay.  Some days, we won't get all of the schoolwork done.  Some days I'll forget about dinner and we'll end up getting pizza.  Some days, I won't have time for a workout.

And that's okay.

I'm not perfect.

You see, I think perfection was the name of the machine I'd become trapped in.   I wanted so badly to be perfect - healthy dinners, kids in all.the.things that they wanted to be in.   Co-op and club attendance to counteract the "socialization" arguments.  High test scores to prove that I was the perfect homeschooling mom.  Instagram worthy house pictures.   Smiling faces at field trips.

And what it got me was perfectly sick and tired.   Quite literally.

So, friends, this year I'm not going for perfect, and I remind myself of that every time the anxiety starts to rise.

I'm going for healthy.

I'm going for happy.  

I'm going for rested.

I'm going for smiles.

I'm going for laughter.

I'm going for hugs and cuddles.

I'm going for playtime.

I'm going for actual conversations with my husband, and not just falling asleep side-by-side on the couch.  

I'm going for increased activity on my fitness tracker.  

I'm going for protected relaxation times for myself *and* my kids.

It might mean that I can't say yes to the co-ops and the field trips and the parish dinners.   It might mean that we say no to a gym meet or two.  It might mean that we stay home for the holidays.  It might mean hiring someone else to do my grading (which I've already done).  It might mean sandwiches for lunch instead of a hot meal.   It might mean cereal for breakfast.  

It might not be perfect, but it will be good.

And good enough is good enough for me this year.

To the mom in the front pew....

To the mom in the front pew:

Usually, I’m you.  I’m that mom in the front pew, trying to wrestle little ones and teach them how to participate in the Sunday Mass.

Today, however, I was sitting alone in the row behind you.   My husband (God love him) had taken our 6 kids to visit his parents, leaving me home alone for a long weekend (!!).   Today was the first time since Lent that I’d gotten to sit alone during mass and really focus on the readings and actually listen to the homily.

But usually…..I’m you.   

I’m sitting there, desperately trying to keep an inquisitive two-year-old quiet, or at least using her whisper voice, and trying to keep the eight year old with special needs from bolting out of the pew.   I’m usually on my own, due to Mike’s job, and I just don’t quite have enough arms to keep them all “in my lap”, as the typical blogs with helpful hints advise. I bring the quiet books (like you), the blank books with instructions to “draw what they see” (like you), and sometimes even the lovies (like you).     We don’t bring snacks, but that’s only because food is a trigger for the eight year old.   If it works for you, so be it.

I know how disheartening it can be to have your child’s noises echo around the sanctuary.   Those of us who go to old, stone churches with lots of tile *really* know what it’s like.  I know the flush of heat on your face as the toddler drops something and the loud “CLANK” echoes around the room.   I know the walk of shame as you take the crying baby all the way from the front pew (because that’s the helpful hint: sit where your child can see) to the back of the church or the bathroom.   

But, today, as I watched you lovingly guide your children through the mass with nothing to distract me, I saw something else.

I saw the beginnings of a saint.

As I sat there listening to the readings, I heard your voice, whispering to your children.   Explaining what a word meant, and pointing out what was happening as we moved through the liturgy.

I heard the beginnings of a saint.

***“Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves.”  James 1:22****

Dear mom in the front pew, I see you.  

I see a mom, trying hard to raise a saint.

Friends, we are at a crisis point in our Church.   You know it.  I know it.   Evil has invaded our beloved Church at some of the highest levels.  

Dear mom in the pew, I beg you:   Do not let this evil dissuade you.   I know it can be so easy to justify dismissing the Truth of the Church based on the sins of Her public figures.   Oh my goodness, do I know.   

Do not let this evil distract you from the Truth.   Fight it with the best weapons we have - we moms have the chance to lead our children to become saints.   We have the responsibility to become saints ourselves.   This is our fight as the Church Militant.  This is our fight, and our chance to fight for holiness and Truth.

*** “The most deadly poison of our times is indifference.  And this happens, although the praise of God should know no limits.  Let us strive, therefore, to praise Him to the greatest extent of our powers.”  St Maximillian Kolbe ***

Dear mom in the pew, I will be sitting there, cheering you on.   Praying for your success.   Please pray for my own success.   Every week, I will be there to share a smile, maybe pick up a discarded toy, and encourage you in your vocation.   You are raising the next generation for our Church, and it is our generation that will rebuild His Church.   Our kids will be the next great generation of saints.  Do not give up, do not let Satan in through the crack that he’s made.   The foundation is still strong, we……you and I, and the holy priests (yes, there are holy priests - do not abandon them in this time of crisis!)……we will rebuild.

One of my favorite saints once said “The nation doesn’t simply need what we have.  It needs what we are.” (St Edith Stein).  My dear moms in the pew - any pew - our Church needs *us* now for who we are.   Our vocation to motherhood will be a source of strength for those fighting the battle for His Church.   Our sacrifice and love for our families will be the ammunition for those fighting for the victims, fighting for reparations, and fighting for renewal.

So, please do not give up.  Come to mass.  Show your children your love for the Eucharist.   Keep coming, with the crying babies and antsy toddlers and loud preschoolers.   Sit in that pew, and show them a love for Christ and how you will not abandon His Church now, but you will fight for Her.  Share with them the stories of the saints, the Beauty of creation, the glory of Truth.

We are raising saints, moms-in-the-pews.   

***”The Saints have always been the source and origin of renewal in the most difficult moments in the Church’s history”. St JPII****

Saints who will renew our beloved Church. 

 

Let’s get to work.   I’ll see you on Sunday.

Living through Life's Curveballs: My Do and Do Not Guide

As a lot of you know already, my grandmother passed away this week.   While it wasn’t necessarily unexpected - she’d been in relatively poor health for awhile, and slowly getting weaker - it was definitely not expected to happen this week.   Nor was it expected to happen so quickly - literally hours after phone calls and messages started getting sent amongst family members that Grandma wasn’t doing too well.

I’m struggling a bit with the news.   Again, it’s not like I didn’t know it was coming, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting it to happen this week.  I guess I thought I still had time to talk to her and maybe get down to see her (she lived in TX, while we’re in the tundra).  Life circumstances over the last few years made getting down to see her pretty much impossible with Mike’s job, Mr T’s health, and my own health complications.   Throw the cost of flying across the country with children into the mix, and we just hadn’t yet been able to make it work.  I’d done a reasonably well job at keeping in contact via email and Skype, but I could definitely have done better.   My week has been full of both guilt of not doing a better job with staying in touch, and sadness of the loss of someone who was not only one of the most faithful Catholic witnesses in my life growing up, but also someone who was incredibly supportive and encouraging in my own walk of trying to live an authentically Catholic life.

But most of all, there’s just plain sadness that she’s gone.   I know that I can do my job now, and pray for her, and hope that she’s in Heaven, enjoying the beatific vision, but I’m sad with the thought of her no longer being present here on Earth.  I suppose that’s the “typical” reaction for anyone who loses someone that they love, but it’s been so long since I personally have lost a family member or friend that I’m unsure of what is “right” to say or do.   

As much as I’d love to have Mike around this week for the sole fact that I really, truly am struggling to parent on a mental level (Netflix and take out dinners are my friend right now) and having another adult around would be amazingly helpful with that, there is a silver lining to this happening during a single parenting week.  Namely…..I’ve been able to spend a lot of time in my own head, sorting through my thoughts and emotions, and I’m not sure I would have really been able to do that with him around.   This is giving me a little bit of time to really do the introvert thing and lose myself in my own head (which is healing for me), without the guilt of feeling like I need to talk about it because I know he’s trying to support me through this.   I’m not sure if that makes sense, but I know that by the time he’s back from his call shift, I will feel more ready to work through the grief in a more “public” nature, and talk through things with him.

One of the things that keeps coming to my mind as I’m working through my emotions and responses to my grandmother’s death is this:   the need to be gentle with myself and the benefits of flexible dieting in this situation.   I know, I know, it seems weird to jump right into talking about dieting right after I tell you all that my grandmother just passed away, but bear with me for a minute.

You see, I’m not sure how I’d handle this if I wasn’t so far along on this flexible dieting journey right now.   Actually, that’s not true.  I know exactly how I’d handle this:   take out Thai food for every meal, a beer or glass of wine every day, and lots of ice cream and chocolate in between those two things.

And it’s not that those things are BAD, per se.   All of those things are delicious and part of my normal diet and lifestyle.

But not at the quantities I’d be enjoying if this had happened a year or so ago.  I’m positive of that.

This last 8 months or so of flexible dieting has given me a set of tools that I wasn’t really aware of before now.  I mean, sure, I’ve mentioned them and even said some of these things to friends and family, but I truly didn’t realize just how much they’d become a part of my standard tool kit in my own life.

I decided to take a few minutes today to write down some of these tools and tips that have been coming to mind over the last few days, in hopes that maybe something here will resonate with one of you dear readers, and will help you in the future when life throws you a curveball.

Because it will.  Curveballs are coming.   They will always be there, and it’s up to us to build up the tools we need to navigate through them without letting our healthy habits crash and burn.  

So, here they are - my Do’s and Do Not’s for when life throws you a curveball.  I hope they help you, like they’re helping me this week.

What to Do and Do Not Do When Surviving Curveballs

1. Do choose foods and activities that are as healthy as possible, but do not hyper focus and stress on them.   Every good choice will move you forward so much more than any bad choice will move you backward.
2. Do get some sleep.  Your body and mind need that time to repair the things that the stress will do to them.   Do not set any alarms that aren’t necessary.   Let your body and mind heal.
3. Do let yourself cheat a little bit.  Enjoy those comfort foods.  There’s a reason that we even have the phrase “comfort foods.”  Eat the things that make you think of home, or your childhood, or happier days.   Just do not pig out.   Remember that it’s all about moderation.
4. Do make sure to sneak workouts into your day.   They may not be the workouts you’re used to, but make sure you are moving and getting that blood pumping in some way.   Do not workout as a way to avoid what needs to be done, though.
5. Do accept help when it is offered to you, but do not be scared to say no if it’s not helpful.   In my own life, it is helpful to have meals delivered (so I say yes when someone says “Can I bring you a dinner/breakfast/etc?”.  It is not actually helpful to have my big kids go over to someone else’s house for a playdate, so I’ll turn those offers down).
6. Do take tracking your food on a day by day basis.   I didn’t track Tuesday or Wednesday, because it was too stressful to me to see my macros so far off and I needed to focus on letting meals be easy more than they were nutritious.   Do not give up on tracking completely, though.   Set a date where you will tentatively pick it back up again (Tomorrow for me).   When you get to that date, start logging your food or whatever else it is that you are tracking, and here’s the important piece:  If you’re not ready yet, it's okay to set a new date.  Just remember that your goal is to start tracking again, and truly keep that goal in mind.  
7. Do tell people what’s going on.  Your friends and family care about you.  Let them in a little bit and let them know what you’re going through and experiencing.   Do not feel the need to answer the phone when it rings, though.   Do it on your own schedule, not someone else’s.  It’s okay to call someone back when you’re ready.  Just because the phone is ringing does not mean that you need to answer it.
8. Do take time for yourself.  I’m currently taking a “self care gymnastics practice” where my oldest is babysitting the little ones so I can focus on getting some time to write and soothe my own soul.   Do not feel guilty about putting your own self care first sometimes.
9. Do check in with others who are in the situation with you, if that’s applicable.  Family members or friends who are dodging the same curveball that you are.        Do not get tunnel vision - remember that you are not alone in this experience, and stay connected.
10. Do get outside and get moving.  Never underestimate the power of fresh air and Vitamin D.   Just do not get sunburnt.  
11. Do remember that you are human and need to be cared for, too.   You are not a robot.  You need love and care, and never is that more important than when you’re dealing with a crisis, whether physical, spiritual, or emotional.   Do not go on auto-pilot.   I repeat, you are not a robot.
12. Do remember that life is more than food.  Food is nourishment.  It doesn’t have super powers and isn’t a master of Jedi mind control.   Food is food, and nothing else.  There is more to life than food.   It’s probably likely that there will be a lot of food choices out of your control in a time like this, so your goal is to remember that food is not in control, either.   Do not stop making the next right choice, but remember that the next right choice might mean that you give something else priority over what food is on your plate.
13. Do remember that this is almost always temporary.  Do not give in to despair.
14. Do break tasks and goals into manageable chunks.  I have a group of friends that start a “group of threes” thread on our website every day - they break their daily tasks and goals into groups of three and work on only three things at a time.   During a curveball time period like now, my groups of threes may be built out of pretty basic tasks (brush teeth/make bed/pray…..wash dishes/send texts/drink water….eat lunch/drive to gymnastics/check mail).   All things that on a normal day are pretty routine and I don’t even think about them…..but on a non-normal day, I need more focus.   Even though something as simple as remembering to brush my teeth or drink a glass of water is a total no-brainer on a normal day and never on my 3s list, on a non-normal day, those are the things that are the first to be forgotten.    Here’s the catch though: do not  write the groups of threes in pen.   Dry erase markers and boards will be your friend.  Remember that it’s okay to erase and regroup as many times as necessary.
15. Do seek help if you need it.  Do not hide away.  There are people - professionals, even - who have bigger "power tools" in their toolbox if you need them.  Reach out to them if you need to.   You are not a failure if you need a bigger tool than what you have in your possession.

So, there you have it.   My current guide for living through life’s curveballs.   

What would you add to my list?

**********

In your charity, I'm asking for prayers for my grandmother (Catherine) and my family.   

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.

Et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Fidelium animae, per misericordiam Dei, requiescant in pace. Amen.