Staying in My Own Lane

Always be a first rate version of yourself and not a second rate version of someone else.” – Judy Garland

My brother and I like to talk about Wordle strategies. It seems to be our easy, go-to conversation. To be fair, my brother has all the strategies and I’m just a decent guesser.

His goal is to have more successes getting the word in three guesses than in four. I hadn’t thought of that particular challenge. So when I changed computers a while back, I had to relog in to the NY Times and it started my stats all over again. I thought this was a great chance to give his approach a try.

For a while my 3’s and 4’s were neck in neck. But then I realized, taking the time to be strategic about getting it in three was irritating me. I’d rather go faster and get it in four.

Taking the time to play Wordle is pleasureful, but taking time to think through all the possible combinations to land on the most likely was just unrealistic.

I was chagrined to realize that life had just given me another opportunity to learn to stay in my own lane. The only way I’ve figured out how to be happy playing the game of life is to find my own goals – not try to live up to others.

(featured photo from Pexels)

But I Love Them Wholeheartedly

Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man.” – Rabindranath Tagore

Kids! They bicker with each other
and leave their shoes around.
Tears flow too easily
usually because they’re low on fuel.

It takes so much work
To make a family work
Keeping their hearts and minds engaged
And bodies well.

But I love them wholeheartedly
And not just when they are sleeping
Curled up with an arm akimbo
And sideways on the bed.

Because there’s a fierceness
Of love and loyalty
When we know we belong together
And commit to making repair

The laughter and dance parties
Curiosity and attentiveness
Is so damn inspiring
That one cannot help but grow

I’m so profoundly proud
Of the effort my kids put in to every day
Really of all of us
Forging a path through all the busy-ness
To the heart of the way

Family has a myriad of definitions
Depending on our point of view
But I’ll keep mine – work and everything
Because there is so much love to do!

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.

Being Difficult

There will never be an “us” if I play small.” – Sharon Preiss

Last Monday when Miss O, Mr. D, and I were getting ready for bike camp, nine-year-old Miss O was dragging her feet. She had a ton of “problems” that were blocking her: she couldn’t find shoes, Cooper the dog was in her way, her helmet was missing one unicorn ear, she didn’t remember the route we usually use to go down to the lake, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I turned to her and said, “You are being difficult.”

She replied, “I am.” And then added, “I wish I could tell you when you are being difficult too.”

To which I replied, “Please do. But I’d especially love to know when I’m being difficult when others are trying to be helpful and supportive or if it’s when you all are dragging your feet.”

I’ve been troubled by this conversation ever since. In fact, I’m finding it hard to write about. Here’s my best guess at why.

I think I’m starting to experience the generational BS that women in my family pass down. And it’s so ingrained and insidious, I’m not even doing it intentionally.

You are being difficult.” It’s like code for saying that I expect her to fall in line and be agreeable. To be flexible and accommodating like a young woman.

To be fair, she was being difficult. It’s just that the word hits a note of a gender stereotype that I’ve tried to avoid my whole life. I had no intention of passing it on. Then it slipped out of my mouth.

I’m naturally pretty agreeable. But inheriting the expectations of how a woman should behave has kept me from speaking up when I needed to – both in pursuing my own interests and also when something is wrong. And it kept me playing small. Trying not to stand up or stand out has kept me quiet about what I know or am capable of doing. It’s made me intentionally dim my light so I’m not too much.

It’s taken me decades in leadership positions to figure out that I can be genial AND forthright. And when needed, it’s acceptable to be hard-headedly, certainly, yet kindly, difficult.

So, I’m officially okay with Miss O being difficult. While I prefer she not do it when we are heading out the door, it’s fine if she does that too. Because sometimes that is when we learn to flip the script.

(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

It’ll Be Alright In the End

Everything will be alright in the end, and if it is not alright, it is not the end.” – The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

Months ago, when I signed Mr. D up for his very first summer camp (rock climbing, in case it matters), I assumed that it would start at the same time as Miss O’s. For his age group 3-5, the camp ends at noon. Miss O’s older group goes until 3pm. But certainly they’d start all the groups at 9am, right?

When I took a closer look before the camp started this week, I discovered Mr. D’s doesn’t start until 9:30am. When I realized that detail, I started inwardly groaning about the inconvenience.

But just briefly. Because in the last dozen years, I adopted a shift that has made an immense difference to my happiness. I started assuming that “it” is for the best. That whatever is irritating me is just an opportunity opening that I can’t yet see. Or that I may never totally understand because it’s above my pay grade.

This has a Biblical basis (Romans 8:28), and a Buddhist basis, but I don’t think it requires a particular spiritual tradition. It’s just an act of staying open to the possibility that there’s a perspective that I can’t yet see.

For anyone that is thinking this sounds Pollyana-ish, I get it. But this change came from the darkest days of my life when I was stuck in all the feelings of failure after my divorce and clueless about what I was going to do next.

So many things came from that vulnerable time in the dark: my meditation practice and faith, the conversations with my father, my two beautiful children, my writing. And also this idea that I should stop doubling-down on irritation and instead stay present for whatever is unfolding.

It’s easier to do this for things like camp drop-offs. In this case, the payoff came almost instantly. Of course, it was beneficial to have Mr. D’s camp start a half hour later. He got to see his sister get dropped off, and then have some time warming up on his own.

 It gets harder when the kids are sick and I have to cancel my hair appointment. Or the babysitter cancels and I can’t go out with my friends.

So, I practice with the small irritations – believing that it’ll be alright in the end. And if it’s not alright, it’s not the end.

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.

Photos of the Week: August 10

Sunsets are proof that no matter what happens, every day can end beautifully.” – Kristen Butler

This crow has been honing his ability to pick up bread crusts all week. He picks up one, two, three, four, then drops one. It seems he’s figured out that three is his limit and then he carries them away. The bunny has nothing to do with the process but he’s in the yard looking cute.

We are still on vacation. Nonetheless, there is a lot of productivity and creativity going on.

We’ve spent a little time paddleboarding every day this week. I’m not sure what’s going on in the third picture – but the water is pretty cold so perhaps Miss O is tell Mr. D to get out!

Beach time, pool time and son shine!

My kids have been finding me the most beautiful tiny shells on the beach. They get down low and bring back tiny treasures like miniscule shells, a sand dollar smaller than a dime, and scalloped shells smaller than my pinky fingernail. The shells are so tiny that it’s almost impossible to take a clear picture of them. The more that I ooh-and-aah, the more that they bring me. It’s so fun – just like the sign of the week.

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.

Upward Spirals

Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.” – William Arthur Ward

This was first published on 8/17/2022. I’ve been slowly moving some things I’ve published on other blogs to this one and it’s a great reflective practice for me to remember all the things that touched my heart two years ago – and still do now! Thank you for your patience as I consolidate things if you already read this.


As I was writing my post Good Mood of the Soul, I came across the research that joy and gratitude often result in an upward spiral. The more we focus on gratitude, the easier it is to perceive joy. And when in the midst of joy, we are more open to gratitude.

So here’s the list of things I’m grateful for this week:

For everyone that is willing to read why I am grateful for

That I can still hear the Click and Clack, the Car Talk brothers in the Cars movies.

The quiet way my three-year-old son says, “you are my best mom friend” to me so that I have to lean down to hear. In that position it goes directly from my ear to my heart.

That we have the ability to take pictures with our hearts.

The way it sounds when my daughter says, “I’m thankful for the tooth fairy.” while missing her two front teeth.

For out-of-the blue notes from individuals I admire telling me something I’ve done right.

That I’ve been able to learn, to some degree, how to fix the things that I’ve done wrong.

That broken eggs make food, literal and metaphorical.

For whoever invented yoga pants and made messy hair look sexy, at least on the West Coast. And if that was only in the 90’s and is no longer a thing, for anyone that continues to let me think that.

Speaking of inventions, whoever invented self-sealing water balloons that fill 20 at a time.

That life keeps giving me opportunities to learn that suffering just softens me up for the next great thing.

For every grown-up that showed me what vulnerability looked like when I was a kid.

For every grown-up that shows me what vulnerability is when I’m a grown-up.

For this necklace I bought on a whim and have worn for 20 years that says, “Strength is having a grateful life” and that I have grown into knowing what that means.

Cool sheets on a hot night.

That I have a bed to sleep in.

Green tea on dark mornings.

That connect-the-dots works in art and in life.

For the human traits of kindness, courage and generosity.

For the Divine traits of grace, faith, hope and love.

For the times I’ve been on my knees needing loyalty, courage, generosity, grace, faith, hope and love – and that what I’ve received in those moments has opened me up to knowing what those traits are in my bones.

I am grateful for upward spirals.

What are you grateful for this week? What have you learned about upward spirals?

(featured photo from Pexels)