The Fate Worse Than No

If you believe it will work out, you’ll see opportunities. If you believe it won’t, you will see obstacles.” – Wayne Dwyer

When my friend, Eric, was over for dinner last week, I asked him if he had room in his car to take his chairs home. In the pause as he considered it, Miss O jumped in and said, “Yeah, they were just dumped here.”

Eric surprisingly showed up with chairs unbidden on the morning of Thanksgiving of 2023. And while we used them around the table for that Thanksgiving and this past one, they haven’t been used otherwise.

I think Miss O was doing the thing we often do – saying one sentence too much when there’s a pause because we’re afraid the answer will be “no.” Call it pressing the point or making the case, often it’s trying to shift the answer in our favor. Sometimes it comes with an unnecessary punch.

Because “no” isn’t the worse thing we can hear. Sure, it means we aren’t getting our way for the moment. But consider all the missed opportunities if we didn’t ask at all. Things like dates you didn’t go on, the path you didn’t take, and the pitches you didn’t make.

And the chairs we stored for 420 days because I hadn’t asked my friend to take them. Fortunately, Eric did have room for chairs in his car that night. As we carried them to his car, he and I had a good laugh about the chairs that were “dumped.” Not the word I’d use because they came with good intent and thankfully left in the same spirit.  

(featured photo from Pexels)

Speed Reading

No two readers can or will ever read the same book, because the reader builds the book in collaboration with the author.” – Neil Gaiman

This was originally published on 10/11/2023. Heads up – you may have already read this!


I’ve been speed reading blogs lately. My apologies to anyone with whom I haven’t done a good job of keeping in touch. Somehow, I got behind (I say it somehow like I don’t know how, but we all know how life piles up sometimes). Then with notifications that I had 200+ blogs to read, just from the blogs that I follow, I endeavored to speed read my way through.

Interesting thing though. When I did that, I got a glimpse of the bigger picture of our collective writing. Something like flipping through a book with a drawing in the corner to get the feel of animation. I picked up Word Press like a magazine to thumb through and get a sense of what kind of publication it was.

We all have a story to tell

It’s magical when we are treated to another person’s story. We get a little moment of being able to inhabit someone else’s shoes. In the posts I sped through, I found so much vitality created by writers opening up a vein, to steal from Ernest Hemingway, and leaving a bit of themselves on the page.

The narratives range from trauma to kindness, optimistic to pessimistic, factual to fiction which makes it hard to figure out what this collection has in common. But my speed read led to an a-ha. What binds it together is a rich tradition of story-telling.

We are trying mightily to understand what it all means

To borrow another writing quote, Anne Lamott said “Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave.  They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.” There is something in the practice of putting words on a page that defines the outline of what we are trying to live. And as we draft new versions, we keep reshaping what that looks like. We are writing things into life.

It seems this was even more palpable during the beginning of the Covid pandemic when we were faced with something most of us had never seen in our lifetimes. Collectively we were trying to understand the landscape of socialization and security as conditions changed. We faced fear and grief by writing about it.

Now that those concerns have receded, or at least become a familiar backdrop, I see us wrestling with love, parenting, the state of our planet, success, family, aging. Sometimes with humor, and other times with tears, but we show up on the page as real people writing it out.

There is a beautiful persistent vibe of trying to get better

That leads to the final gem that I gleaned from the pile of posts I sped through. There was a consistent spirit of trying to share knowledge. The collective is telling their stories, processing life through writing, and when we learn a lesson, we memorialize it in words.

This might be the highest hurdles of our collective writing. How to offer up the individual lessons so that others can heal and learn. What I noticed is that we are learning through teaching. Often humbly, and with a dose of personal perspective, but as Yale sociologist Nicholas Christoff says, one of the incredible things we do as humans is cooperate with genetically unrelated individuals, “We teach each other things. People take this for granted, but it’s actually unbelievable.

iWe are publishing a magazine every day. A lifestyle magazine. An inspirational writing journal. A guide to healing. I’m sorry I’ve missed your individual posts but I’m glad for the opportunity to thumb through this magazine. Well done!

(featured photo from Pexels)

Learning the Essentials

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

The other day my friend Eric asked my son, five-year-old Mr. D, how he was liking Kindergarten.

Mr. D said he loved it [thank God] and he was learning a lot.

Eric followed up to ask what he was learning.

Mr. D replied, “I’m learning about recess, the lunchroom, art, and music.

I know you are laughing alongside me as you read this.

Learning his way around the school, including the specialist classes (art and music), has been a huge part of the first three weeks. I can’t imagine how many neurons are firing just to create a mind map of this new experience.

But as you’re smiling, consider this. Aren’t recess, the lunchroom, art and music still a big part of your days today?

(featured photo is Mr. D’s line heading in to class on the first day of school)

Courage is Contagious

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, “I will try again tomorrow.” – Mary Anne Radmacher

I was listening to my neighbor talk about the anxiety she felt this past weekend when her husband took their oldest, a 12-year-old boy, up to Camp Muir on Mt. Rainier.

In her delightful British accent, she said, “It’s not that I don’t trust my husband’s skills, it’s just that if you take the three tallest peaks in the UK, Ben Nevis (Scotland), Scafell Peak (England), and Snowdon (Wales) on top of each other, then you have Mt. Rainier. It’s an American, super-sized mountain.

Fortunately, the weather held and they had a great time hiking up to and camping at base camp on our super-sized mountain.

It struck me as I listened, that there are many different types of courage in these adventures. To lead an expedition, to join as a team member, and also to stand on the sidelines and cheer for an adventure. All take a unique kind of fortitude.

It also made me think of the adventure that Vicki Atkinson and I got to hear about from author, blogger and great story-teller, Cheryl Oreglia on this week’s Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, Episode 86: Tandem Riding with Cheryl Oreglia.

Cheryl recounted her experience on the Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa which is familiarly known as RAGBRAI. Seven hot days of riding, camping, and communing with 20,000 other riders.

Sounds fun, right? But what Cheryl does so consistently is bring the magic. She rides in tandem – both on the bike with her husband, Larry, and also in her writing. She is so good at synchronizing her inner landscape with all that she sees around.

She takes us on this journey from the Missouri River to the Mississippi River. And she leaves Vicki and me in tears about what it all means.

Cheryl is a beautiful writer and inspirational story-teller. She reminds us all what is out there when we face our fears and try hard things.

Pork chops, sunrise, kindness, and courage to name just a few.

I’m confident you’ll love the scenic and beautiful places we explore as we share the power of storytelling.

We know you’ll love it!

Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to it from your computer on Anchor: Episode 86: Tandem Riding with Cheryl Oreglia

AND subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Links for this Episode:

Cheryl’s blog: Living in the Gap

RAGBRAI 2024 – Living in the Gap (cheryloreglia.blog)

Other episodes with Cheryl:

Episode 61: The Writers Conference with Cheryl Oreglia by Sharing the Heart of the Matter (spotify.com)

Episode 30: True Grit with Cheryl Oreglia by Sharing the Heart of the Matter (spotify.com)

Episode 7: Grow Damn It! by Sharing the Heart of the Matter (spotify.com)

(featured photo from Pexels)

The horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day

Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” – Pema Chӧdrӧn

On this past Saturday, we had a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day.*

Cooper the dog, had some potty accidents that we discovered. A couple that I found and cleaned up first thing in the morning, and a couple that Miss O unceremoniously stumbled upon. Ewww. Apparently, Cooper had GI issues after his surgery to remove the grass from his ear on Thursday.

We found some bugs in our pancake mix.

Then nine-year-old Miss O saw that the vines in Rusty, the crested gecko’s enclosure had fallen down. On closer inspection, we’d been misting too much and the whole enclosure was a swamp. So, instead of our to-do list chores, we spent all morning rehabilitating Rusty’s setup.

[Side note: We called my niece to get some advice. She’s the one who gave us Rusty. Miss O told her that we’d gotten Rusty out of the enclosure by saying, “We executed Rusty.” We quickly clarified that we’d evacuated, not executed, Rusty.]

At a kid’s birthday party, five-year-old Mr. D got hit in the head by a water balloon thrown by an 11-year-old boy who had been spitting in the ballons before hurling them.

Our tap water turned brown.

It was literally one thing after another. Some things caused by us, like Rusty’s enclosure. Some things that were random like the water turning brown. Some things caused by other humans like the water balloon.

There is probably nothing that peeves me more than life messing with my efficiency. I was not in a great mood, but I’ve learned from experience that rough days call for leadership, even when I don’t feel like it.

At one point in the day, Miss O exasperatedly said, “This is awful. I don’t know what to do!

So, we talked about my dad’s approach to just find the next right thing to do. And we took comfort that what we did have to respond to “life” with was each other. We were doing pretty good job of sticking together.

Then as the kids were getting ready for bed, a huge lightning storm came in. Seattle very rarely gets thunderstorms so this was a rare and incredible show. After they brushed their teeth, we snuggled in my bed with all the curtains open and watched the storm.

It was fitting. On a day that seemed extra “life-y,” to let the storm and rain exhaust itself and pass on through. In that way, we weathered the storm.

(featured photo from Pexels)

*Title is a riff on the children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judy Viorst

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.

Try Not To Laugh

Watch out for the man whose belly doesn’t move when he laughs.” – Chinese Proverb

My kids love to play the game, “try not to laugh.” You know the one where you are supposed to sit stony faced while they make funny faces and do crazy things? Geez, what a silly game. Why would one ever try not to laugh?

Can you tell that I’m bad at the game? I usually start laughing before the round even starts. After all, laughter is one of the secret sauces for life. Right?

So it was such a pleasure for Vicki and I to sit down and podcast this week with retired elementary teacher, blogger, and author, Pete Springer. It’s Episode 79 of our Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast: Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh with Pete Springer.

Pete tells us a hilarious story about a volunteer job that devolved into the giggles. And we talk about how laughter is such a great unifier and connector.

Sure, there are some things in life that need to be taken seriously. But is it okay to laugh even as we are trying to do a good job?

Pete carries that forward to another story about a recent mad dash through the airport. In his version of planes, carts, and shuttle vans, he delightfully reminds us that we will eventually get to our destination. And it’s better to go laughing.

So please join us for this delightful episode that has Vicki and me in giggles and I know you will be chuckling right alongside us.

I dare you not to laugh at this episode. 🙂

I’m certain you’ll enjoy the scenic and beautiful places we go when we share the power of story.

We know you’ll love it!

Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to it from your computer on Anchor: Episode 79: Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh with Pete Springer

AND subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Vicki has written a great HoTM post about this episode: Episode 79: Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh with Pete Springer

Links for this Episode:

Pete Springer – Passionate Teacher and Future Children’s Author (wordpress.com)

Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh – Pete Springer (wordpress.com)

When You Crack Yourself Up: “Wind Beneath My Wings” – Victoria Ponders

Other Episodes with Pete:

Episode 68: The Circle of Life with Pete Springer

Episode 36: They Call Me Mom with Pete Springer

From the Hosts:

Vicki’s recently released book: Surviving Sue

Wynne’s book about her beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

(featured photo from Pexels)

Creatively Unwinding

The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort towards wholeness.” – Madeleine L’Engle

It’s captivating to watch all the different types of creativity at the beach. Unless someone has found a way to monetize sand castles, I believe what I’m watching is some of the unique ways people use their leisure time.

There are all sorts of way to unwind, aren’t there? Here on this beach in the Pacific Northwest, building forts and sand castles top the list.

Almost nine-year-old Miss O likes to create some version of a crab café every time we come to this beach. It’s got scalloped dishes, seaweed garnish and salt and pepper (sand) shakers made from crab claws.

Others have made beautiful and intricate forts out of driftwood. Some of these structures are so sturdy that they last for months and years between our visits.

Someone else makes driftwood sculptures. And our neighbor on this trip has made a sort of hanging sculpture from the wood on the beach.

When my friend, Katie, was here, she challenged the kids to come up with their own Beach Olympics. Would their event be Shell Shotput or Beach Balance Beam?

As I jot all this down, it reminds me that writing is another activity to add to the list. Not only am I writing this down for a post, but I can also imagine all the poetry, prose, and photography inspired by time away at this place.

I’m struck by how intertwined creativity is in what we do, even when unwinding. Maybe as the quote for this post from Madeleine L’Engle suggests, it’s all part of working towards wholeness.

Creating Space

The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.” – Albert Einstein

When I packed up my car to go on vacation with my family last week, it was so heavily loaded that there was no floor space visible. The cereal boxes were under Mr. D’s feet and came out a little dented. I hauled the organic milk the kids drink because it is so much more expensive on the island. I even brought our own snuggly blankets because the ones at the cabin are 40 years old and scratchy.

What happened to the days when I could travel with just a toothbrush and passport?

Not claiming that I ever did go THAT light. Especially climbing trips came with duffel bags of gear. But it felt like I could.

To make this even sillier, this vacation was just going 90 minutes from home and on an island that’s the 4th biggest in the US. To put it all in perspective about how close to commerce we are, even when on vacation, there’s a Chinese restaurant 10 minutes from where we stay.

But still I loaded up the car. Even with all that brought, it wasn’t long before I realized that I forgot to bring my favorite tea. A blueberry green tea by Yogi that is pretty hard to find.

As I was lamenting the tea I forgot, I was chagrined to remember that I only discovered this tea because I was on a business trip last year and didn’t have my usual.

Sheesh, I wonder how many times I will have to learn that when we leave space – by breaking from habit or routine or just doing something differently – it creates room for discovery.

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.