Inculcating Sustainability

“We have not inherited the earth from our parents; we have borrowed it from our children.” – Wendell Berry

A while ago we were driving and saw litter by the side of the freeway. Mr. D said, “It’s not healthy for the moon to eat.” It started a rousing discussion of not only what planet we live on but also Earth sustainability.

A lot of the climate change messaging these days doesn’t seem to resonate with kids. First, it’s rife with fear and disgust – like humans strangling the planet because they are short-sighted and selfish. I’m not sure that resonates with grown-ups but I know for certain kids can’t grok the cynicism.

Second, they have a sense that grown-ups don’t know what to do about it so it feels too big for kids to take on.

Third, they are just developing their altruism muscles so giving up things when other people are not lands as unfair.

Fortunately, Seattle has a great recycling and composting program. In the winter, we’ve spent a lot of time at the dump (the transfer station) watching how it works and playing with the educational models (see pictures here). Inculcating some sustainability habits to go hand-in-hand, seemed to me like a good next step.

After trial and error, some climate change for kids books, and thinking, here are some of the things I’ve come up with to teach my kids:

One in, one out: We participate in hand-me down chains for toys, books, and clothes. We try to give away at least one thing for everything we get. I can’t claim we do this every time – but we try.

Involve them: I reuse a lot of containers – like hand soap. They love participating in refilling our containers.

Full life cycle: We grow strawberries, try to grow peas and pumpkins, visit pumpkin farms, and give away our plum crop to people who are food insecure. Even though we live in a city and are disconnected from where our food comes from, I try to connect them to the bounty of the Earth when possible.

Teach them skills: Things break and need maintenance and there are a lot of skills to repair and reuse things instead of just discarding them. I’m not much of a seamstress but I do know my way around drills, saws, caulk, and glue. Seeing that we can not only fix things but also make them better.

Selling our stuff and buying second hand: We have a great second hand kids shop in our neighborhood that makes it possible to sell what we don’t give away – and buy at the same store.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to oversell what we are doing. They are small efforts and I’m far from consistent and perfect on these things. But these things are doable and sustainable for us. They counterbalance the messages of judgment and fear that leave us feeling helpless. If nothing else, it convinces my kids that they can do something to help. And believing that might just make a difference.

Ring a Bell

There is within each one of us a potential for goodness beyond our imagining; for giving which seeks no reward; for listening without judgment; for loving unconditionally.” – Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

I’ve hung a yak bell on the inside handle of my back door for decades. I bought the bell in Nepal when I trekked to Everest base camp so I find it a pleasing sound for many reasons. It’s been useful so that my dogs can signal when they want to go out. Neither Cooper nor Biscuit before him were big barkers so it was pretty easy to train them to ring the bell when they want to go outside.

It’s a lot harder to train them to just do it when they NEED to go out instead of just want to go out. <Squirrel> But hey, I won’t complain about a system that works most of the time for canine to human communication.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that Cooper rings the bell for the cat. That is, if he sees her sitting outside the door wanting to come in, he’ll ring it. Or, if she’s sitting next to him and wants to go out, he’ll ring the bell. When I open the door, he sits back down and doesn’t go outside as if to say, “I’m just doing this for my friend, the cat. Who could do it for herself but doesn’t want to appear trainable.”

Who says chivalry is dead?

Riding the Rhythm Into the Comfort Zone

Each one must learn the highest wisdom. It cannot be taught in words.” – Smowhala Wanapum

We’ve just returned from two week vacation on the beach. It was an incredible privilege to be able to take that time. It was born of a feeling that Mr. D needed a break between his 52-weeks-a-year preschool and starting Kindergarten. But it turned out to be something we all needed.

We had lots of friends join us. My friend, Eric, was with us a good deal of the two weeks. Also, my oldest friend, Katie, my meditation teacher, Deirdre, my mom, and one of Miss O’s friends came with her mom for part of the time.

But we also spent a number of days just the three of us. For anyone not in this phase of life with young children, it’s a tricky thing to present children with a whole lot of unstructured time. Ah, who am I kidding? It seems to be problematic for most every age.

For us, it started out with some rough moments. Mr. D lost it a few days in a row. The things that set it off were so innocuous. Like the time he didn’t want Miss O and her friend to go out in the dinghy after dinner even though he was invited and included. It had to be something else bugging him.

And then we found the rhythm. Activity, break, activity, food, activity, break, food, activity, bed. For example, wake up, walk on the beach, and then take a break; go swimming and then break for lunch; then pickleball; take a break; dinner and paddleboarding, then have some downtime watching shows and go to bed.

Here’s the lesson I derived for myself – when life feels new or unsettling, find the rhythm. Often the rhythm gets us through even when we are outside of our comfort zone.

It’s like every new hike or mountain I’ve undertaken. I feel the anxiety of not knowing where I’m going. And then I shoulder my pack and start walking. Soon enough, I will find or experience the answers. I just need to rely on the rhythm of my pace until I get there.

The Lottery of Life

Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple.” – Barry Switzer

My friend, Eric (from the recent On The Bus podcast), and I recently made a lottery ticket pact. Neither of us usually buys lottery tickets. But we saw a condo for sale at the place we like to go to on Whidbey Island. We can’t afford it, so we decided to buy a PowerBall ticket and if we won, we’d buy it.

I know, a silly idea all around. But the funny thing was that once we’d bought the ticket, I was beset by the idea that I didn’t want to win the lottery because I wanted to earn what I have in life.

Following this stream of consciousness made me realize how many “lotteries” I’ve already won in life.

Being raised by an incredibly smart mom who told me I could be whatever I wanted as long as I was willing to put in the effort.

Having a loving dad that did the work to follow the example of Jesus to love and accept everyone.

Living at a time when women can get credit, buy houses, and use IVF to have children.

Benefitting from mentors who were willing to help me discern what is important, how to navigate adversity, and retain integrity.

Having technical skills at a time when personal computers, the Internet, and mobile technology emerged.

Being blessed with kids that were healthy when they were born and being able to afford good health care for me and my children to help keep us well.

Living in the Pacific Northwest where there are mountains to climb, beaches to comb, and summer weather so nice that most people just want to stay near home. At least for these five months.

Having incredible friends who have walked alongside me for ups, downs, and adventures.

And the list goes on and on. It makes me realize how much my independence and sense of earning is a tenuous construct. It reminds me to balance my dreams with not just what I want and need, but what I can give in thanks.

Or, to put it briefly in a phrase I learned from Dr. Gerald Stein: Tikkun Olam – repair the world.

Resilience and The Right Team

Children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care that they get.” – H. Jackson Brown Jr.

I know it’s bad form to brag about your kids. So I’ll ask for your apology in advance. I want to set the expectations appropriately, and then still do exactly what I want to do. Because I was so inspired by my four-year-old that it seems worth passing along.

Two days ago, I saw my son, Mr. D, pull off an incredible feat of resilience. He went to an Aikido class expecting that he could test for his yellow belt. Not only did he expect this, but he’d told his teachers at school, and we’d gotten my mom to come to the class to watch. Plus his favorite person on the planet, his darling older sister, would be there.

But when he did his practice test, he screwed up the forward rolls. The Sensei is a very good teacher and won’t let anyone take the test until they’ve got it down. So, she let him know before his class started that he wouldn’t be able to test that day.

He lined up for class with his bottom lip quivering and he kept glancing at me to commiserate his disappointment. The crestfallen look on his face was enough that I felt like crying myself. But about halfway through the 50-minute class, he took a deep breath in, squared his shoulders, and visibly moved on from the disappointment.

By the end of class, he was fully participating and laughing. When we went home, he kept practicing the move he messed up. He was still only landing on the correct foot about fifty percent of the time.

Then yesterday morning, he popped up out of bed and wanted to show me his rolls. He thought hard about it, and nailed it. After about a half dozen correct ones, he announced he was ready to test. When we went to Aikido class yesterday afternoon, he stepped up and nailed the test.

Expectation, disappointment, then coming back to earn it – kids do these things in such quick succession that they make it look easy. It makes me wonder if as grown-ups we remember these are part of a cycle. We just have to keep rolling to get through it.

One other thing strikes me. Kids have a whole network of people cheering them on. Teachers, coaches, parents, grandparents, and often even random bystanders will jump in to tell them they’re doing great.

Which makes me wonder if adults have the same. Are we cultivating the friends, partners, colleagues, and mentors that help us continue to be resilient? Are we being those people for others? It might make all the difference.

Using It All Up

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and could say, I used everything you gave me.” – Erma Bombeck

My dad had a motto, especially in his retirement years. “I just want to be useful.” And as a retired pastor, that translated to serving on boards, guest preaching, teaching classes, and family stuff like helping me with my house and yard on Saturdays.

And he was very useful. But his usefulness required a lot of flexibility on my mom’s part.

A month or so ago, my 85-year-old mom asked, “Did you see Eleanor Coppola’s obituary in the paper?”

I hadn’t, so we found it and she read me this part, “ ‘There is part of me that has been waiting for Francis to leave me, or die, so that I can get my life the way I want it,’ Eleanor wrote. ‘I wonder if I have the guts to get it the way I want with him in it.’ “

I have a theory – that a lot of women don’t use up all their talent as the quote for this post by Erma Bombeck so beautifully says. That isn’t to say that it doesn’t apply to men, too.

But when it comes to women, it seems that after a lifetime of being flexible for others (relationships, kids, pets), women don’t often get ASKED in the same way that men do. So then it becomes a doubly-hard question about creating life the way as envisioned because it involves crafting the persona, network, and possibly upsetting the status quo at home.

In the case of Eleanor Coppola, it turns out that she died at age 87 before Francis. But she directed her first feature film at age 80. I hope that means she was able to get life the way she wanted it with him in it. In fact, one more quote from her obituary makes me think he was nudging her along:

“ ‘One morning at the breakfast table my husband said, “Well, you should direct it.” I was totally startled,’ Eleanor told The AP. ‘But I said, “Well, I never wrote a script before, and I’ve never directed, why not?” I was kind of saying “why not” to everything.

As we tune in the deep whisper urging us to be useful and share all our talents with the world, I think we should remember to ask, “Why not?

(featured photo from Pexels)

In Our Element

As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” – Carl Jung

We rented an AirBnB over the weekend that touted bunk beds in the laundry room. Clearly the charm of this place lay in its location on a beach on Whidbey Island. And that it accepted dogs.

Mr. D has been calmed by water since day one. The babies that don’t like their first bath? Nope, not Mr. D. What did we do for at least an hour on his first day of daycare? Play in water.

I watched him this weekend pouring water with a clam shell for thirty minutes from one hole to another and then back. An incredibly long time for a four-year-old to stay with one focus. If it weren’t for the tide coming in, it looked like he would have done it for hours.

I wonder if we all have an element we are born with that calls to us. For Miss O, it seems to be singing. First mine and my mom’s, and now her own.

If given the option between beaches and mountains, I’d say “mountains.” One step onto a hiking trail and my stress level drops by five notches. Every step gives me further improvement in my mental health, resilience, and sense of humor.

But I’ve spent more time on these rugged beaches of the Pacific NW than mountains since I’ve had kids. And I’ve found the beaches remind me to breathe out all the stale air I hold in. Whether it’s because Mr. D has water and Miss O can sing by the campfire, or because I can walk along the sea and the surf, I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it works magic.

Who cares if the bunk beds are in the laundry room if the location puts us in our element?

(featured photo is mine – Mr. D by the sea)

A Full-Circle Story

Be kind to yourself and share it with the world.” – unknown

The other day I opened my door to an older gentleman who was going door-to-door on behalf of Greenpeace. Let’s call him John. He was warm and friendly and told me he’d grown up in this neighborhood and named the elementary school he attended.

As we were talking about plastic in the ocean, he mentioned that he’d just been talking to a neighbor. She wanted to subscribe for an annual payment. She knew she’d remember to do it because the day he came by was her birthday.

Clearly this neighbor had made an impact on his day. He went on to explain that she and her husband invited him in to sit down as they did the paperwork. It gave him some rest for his aching knees.

I hazarded a guess based on the story he’d told me, “Was it Donna and Bruce?”

Yes,” he laughingly confirmed even though they are two streets away. There are about 25 houses per block in this neighborhood so he must have knocked on about 50 doors between my house and theirs.

So, I told him the story about how I met Donna and Bruce one evening about four years ago. It was early on in the pandemic and my daughter was doing on-line Kindergarten. I was trying to optimize her desk situation. Someone up the street had put a great kids desk out on the curb to give away. I was trying to carry it home with my 5-year-old daughter, my 6-year-old neighbor, and my 1-year-old son in tow.

And then Donna, who I’d never met before, offered to step in and help. Her delightful spirit is just one of the reasons she’s one of my favorite people to run into in the neighborhood.

[The next time I saw Donna after my conversation with John, the Greenpeace guy, I told her that how John told me the story of how her warmth and kindness had made such a difference to him. It was so fun to see her reaction to one of the many touchpoints of positive impact she must deliver in a day.]

After John, the Greenpeace guy left, my kids and I went out for a walk. We came across him sitting on a garden wall on the next street over resting his aching knees. Because of the stories we’d shared, it felt like he was an old friend. We sat down for a moment and chatted with him before we all moved on, still connected by the thread of narrative.

For a story about an a-ha moment Vicki had as a child about the roots of her dad’s big heart, please listen to our Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast: Episode 67: Love the Ones That are Different with Vicki and Wynne

Vicki Atkinson and I are big believers in the power of story – to connect us, to create intergenerational healing, and to make meaning out of the events of our lives. Each episode of our podcast will start with someone telling a story in each episode.

To listen to the podcast, Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts. Or subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Going to the Next Level

I am convinced all of humanity is born with more gifts than we know. Most are born geniuses and just get de-geniused rapidly.” – R. Buckminster Fuller

We are coming to the end of our school year. 28 more school days in third grade for Miss O. And 50 days until Mr. D graduates from his preschool program. Do you remember that feeling as a kid? Being not only ready for summer break but also ready to ascend to that next level?

It has me thinking of what milestones we have in our lives as grown-ups that celebrate our readiness to go on to the next level. There are some big ones like becoming an empty-nester or retirement. Or we have annual ones like birthdays, anniversaries, and New Years. But often, I find myself at those moments planning on what I’m going to do next instead of commemorating what I’ve learned.

Let me suggest that we take a moment to bring back that feeling of finishing a school year. To actually name something we’ve graduated from and celebrate it. I’ll start:

I’ve come to believe that I am enough. Or at least to understand that pretending to be someone else is ineffective. So if a situation or expectations make me feel otherwise, I try to slow enough to double-down on being me long enough to get through.

And by graduating, I don’t mean being done. It brings to mind another graphic from Miss O’s 3rd grade teacher:

It seems fitting on this last day of teacher appreciation week to honor our teachers by naming what we’ve learned. Are you with me? If you are stuck, maybe visit the list from Pick Three Affirmations to find a place to start.

(featured photo from Pexels)

For a story about the circle of life, please listen to our Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast: Episode 66: The Power of Story with Wynne and Vicki.

We are changing our format starting with this episode. Vicki Atkinson and I are big believers in the power of story – to connect us, to create intergenerational healing, and to make meaning out of the events of our lives. To set the stage, we will be starting with someone telling a story in each episode.

To listen to the podcast, Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts. Or subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Guides for Transformation

‘Understand that the hardest times in life to go through are when you are transforming from one version of yourself to another.” – Mysticool

This post was originally published on 3/29/2023. Heads up – you may have already read this.


It’s something that I’ve found again and again in life – when I need to transform, someone or something shows up to be the catalyst. The Universe sends me a guide in some form or another. Here are some of my favorite examples:

When I was bored after a break-up with a boyfriend and I drove around a corner and Mt Rainier was squarely in my view. It started my amateur climbing career.

After I suffered from being stuck and closed down for a couple of years after my divorce, I received an invitation for a mediation class from my friend, Deirdre.

In my 40s when I was working out what was next in life, I would see images of the English Duchess Kate and start to cry. It totally unnerved me since I wasn’t much of a royal watcher and had eschewed having a family until then. And then I finally realized that I wanted to have kids.

I haven’t known all my guides. For example, researcher and author Brené Brown has been my guide towards being vulnerable and whole-hearted simply through the act of reading her books and listening to her.

As my meditation teacher, Deirdre says – transformation is what we need to be our best selves. Yes, it involves change but our spirits are wired to keep growing and finding the balance of all we can be when we need to evolve or simply have gone too far in one direction.

For me this goes in waves, I’ve changed my body to become a mountain climber only to find after years of doing that, my mind and soul needed to also get in shape through meditation. That change helped me open to understanding it was time for me to become a parent. And then I transformed almost completely to become a parent only to find as my kids age, it’s time to transform again to someone who remembers she has an individual, alive part that needs to dance too.

Perhaps this goes without saying, but the other part that I’ve noticed is that I don’t always get the message the first time. When I ignore the call, sometimes it builds into a crisis. In climbing terms, it goes from being a part of a team with a guide at the front to a rescue where I have to flail at the end of the rope.

Some of these changes are inspired from within and feel like evolution. Others come from the outside with disappointment and heart break and feel like erosion. However it comes, I’ve found it easier to take when I bow my head, put aside my opinion on whether I want it or not, and then look for guides.

Because I’ve found is that the Universe hasn’t left me to do this alone. It sends a guide or a catalyst to kick off the reaction. If you don’t believe in any Higher Power, I think that statement could also be cloaked in social learning theory – that all the people around us are walking advertisements for what we can be next. Whichever it is you believe, my experience has shown me that the guide may or may not be in our lives for the duration but they show up to help us over the threshold to what’s next.

(featured photo from Pexels)