The Case for Non-Competition

A head full of fears has no space for dreams.” – unknown

I can’t get Miss O to put down the guitar. I know that’s a funny thought – why would I want to?

Here’s the situation. My nine-year-old daughter, Miss O, has a gift for music. She has nearly perfect pitch so that if she hears something, she can play it. And she’s learned piano from my mom, ukelele from YouTube videos, started clarinet in the school band, and also sings in a choir.

She’s practiced these things, and my mom has been a fantastic teacher, but mostly she has enough natural ability that she makes it look easy.

All good – until Mr. D wanted to learn to play the guitar. We have a little one that we picked up at a garage sale that was missing three strings. I ordered some replacement strings and voila, Mr. D had an instrument that he could carry around and try.

He’s not really wanting to formally learn anything quite yet. He’s five years old. But he likes putting the strap around his neck and strumming. I found a chord on YouTube and went to show it to him – he didn’t want to do it. But Miss O was standing right there and said, “Can I do it?

Of course, she picked it up easily. So I asked her not to play the guitar. To give her younger brother some space so he can have a thing that is his own. She nodded her agreement – and then by 30 minutes later had circled back to try to play it.

So I gave her a longer explanation about why that can be discouraging to her brother. She gave it a rest for about a half a day.

When I found her with it at the end of the next day, I started again tiredly. She yelled, “So I can never pick it up and strum it?” And because nuance didn’t seem to be working, I said emphatically, “Yes!” and she angrily stomped off.

At bedtime, I told the kids the story about when Mr. D was 2-years-old and had the cutest little Hawaiian shirt. I dressed him in it every time we went to a party and everyone oohed and aahed, “What a cute baby!”

So Miss O said to me, “I hate it when he wears that shirt. He gets so much attention.” I explained that what I did to help wasn’t to get her the same shirt – or buy them both a new outfit that matched each other. I helped her find a new dress and shoes so she could feel good about what she was wearing – on the inside –even if she didn’t get all the compliments the baby did.

I summed it up that sometimes we just need to give each other space. That competing or comparing, especially over time, can often undercut someone’s confidence.

I must have flubbed the ending. Because at the end of the story, Mr. D wanted that shirt and Miss O said, “I knew I wasn’t going to like that story.

I left the bedroom with two grumpy kids still pouting. I was frustrated because I couldn’t fix it. It struck me that we were all too close on this one – perhaps telling the story when we were all together wasn’t the right timing. Or that we just needed some time. Or that bedtime wasn’t a good time to tackle this. All of the above, I suspect.

And that is why my guitar gently weeps. From under the couch where I hid it.

Let’s Stick Together

In the middle of every difficulty lies opportunity.” – Albert Einstein

Last Thursday, I had a moment of chaperone panic. I was in charge of Mr. D and another 5-year-old, a little girl named, Lydia. She was a delightful little girl who wanted to name our team, Rainbow Unicorn. So she was exactly on message for her age group.

After seeing all the sights, playing the games, eating lunch and picking out pumpkins, I asked Lydia if she wanted to do the corn maze. She had said several times she wanted to do it. As we approached the entrance of the maze, it was just the three of us: Mr. D, Lydia and me.

We walked fifteen feet to the first intersection and Lydia yelled, “Let’s split up!

I bit back my scream of “Noooooo!” and eked out a mostly calm, “Let’s stick together.

It strikes me that spreading chaos is a little fun. Not that little Lydia meant anything by it. She was just injecting a little five-year-old energy into the event.

Maybe my panic struck a little harder than usual since it’s election season in the US. I’m tired of the divisiveness that stokes up fear and the conflict entrepreneurs that capitalize on it. Let’s stick together.

The Ritual of Tea

Good habits automate us, helping us get things done. Rituals animate us, enhancing and enchanting our lives with something more. The intrinsically emotional nature of rituals gives them their animating power.” – Michael Norton

Before the pandemic, my “office” was at a favorite local coffee shop. My kids were little and at home so I needed a place to escape to. I’d walk in the door of the coffee shop, throw my backpack onto my favorite comfy chair by the window if it was available, get my cup of green tea, and then settle in to work.

For me, wrapping my hands around a hot cup of tea is like an automatic reset button. It helps me notice the moment before I move to the next. Part of the fun was just being around all the other regulars and hearing conversations. There is something so delicious about the conviviality of coffee shop comradery.

So I loved the conversation I had with Vicki Atkinson this week on the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast: Tea Time with Wynne and Vicki

We bring in one of my favorite quotes about tea from Mark Nepo. He likens tea to the way we make sense of our lives. From gathering the leaves, to pouring water over it, to drinking it slowly, we cultivate the aromatic blend that helps us and heals us.

Both Vicki and I like the ritual because it slows us down. Having a cup of tea is like an invitation to bring forward what we already know.

I share my secret for how long I let it steep. And Vicki shows some treasured sets from her family that hold so much more than tea.

Vicki shares a delightful book about making tea that has been a gift and a reminder to let the swirls of tea help settle our thoughts down.

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

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 89: Tea Time with Wynne and Vicki

HoTM Episode 89 transcript

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

Links for this Episode:

Steeping the Tea Leaves of Life by Wynne Leon

My Kind of Swirl by Vicki Atkinson

Vicki’s book about resilience and love: Surviving Sue

My book about my beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

Loving and Learning

Life isn’t about getting and having, it’s about giving and being.” – Kevin Kruse

I was chatting with another parent at a party the other night. Let’s call her Casey, because, well, that’s her name. Casey was telling me about spending the night prior sleeping on the floor next to their new puppy’s crate. Since I was fresh off of sleeping on the couch for my puppy when he was getting adjusted, I was nodding along.

Then Casey said that a friend of hers told her she had made a mistake by getting a puppy. The opinion was logical: she laid out all the plans Casey had said she wanted to do like rebuilding her acupuncture practice in a new location and thought the puppy was not conducive to Casey’s goals.

Hmm, is love ever directly conducive to our goals?

Perhaps when it is the goal itself but from my experience, love is the big disruptor that often interrupts our progress on the things we can measure.

I’m thinking of this past weekend when my four-year-old son wanted to sit on my lap as I was writing a post so I switched to typing one-handed.

Or the time 20 years ago when I screwed up a work presentation because my new love wanted to spend time and so I forgot to practice.

And the swollen eyes I had for weeks after I had to say goodbye to my last dog, making it nearly impossible to concentrate or pull myself together.

And yet:

My four-year-old, Mr. D, has been bounding out of bed in the morning to say “hi” to the puppy. I find him with his arm around the dog or the cat as he tries to broker peace for his new best friend. And having a puppy has also made him more organized to keep track of his Bun Bun stuffy so that it stays out of the dog’s sharp teeth.

My eight-year-old daughter, Miss O, has a new way to make friends. We stood outside the school gate this afternoon letting kid after kid pet the puppy while she proudly showed them how she’s trained him to sit. And the puppy is also making her grow up because she’s having to find her inner discipline in order to deliver clear commands to him.

I feel the rumbling at my feet of puppy snores as I type this and feel less alone. I’m also feeling the exhaustion that comes with the extra discernment, communication, and enthusiasm I’m expending to train my kids to train the puppy.

We’re loving and learning. I’m not sure there is anything more conducive to my parenting goals than that. I’ve lost sleep for far less worthy reasons!

What do you think is worth losing sleep for?

The Risk Factor

Take risks: if you win, you will be happy; if you lose, you will be wise.” – unknown

A couple of weeks ago, on the third time I took five-year-old Mr. D to the skate park, we ran into a fifth grader at school who is the boy that Mr. D admires the most. And this boy is a terrific scooter rider. Is that the right way to put it? I’m unsure of my skate park lingo.

This boy rides a scooter and can drop in to the steepest of the bowls, propel himself out, kick the base of the scooter around so it does a 360 and then land it, bringing all the energy to an elegant stop. It is truly impressive.

I watched Mr. D observing this boy and wondered if it would make him reckless. Mr. D stood quietly for a while just taking it all in and then he started scootering back and forth on the flat concrete practicing popping a wheelie.

On the next visit, he found the most gradual of the slopes and started practicing going down one side and back up the other. This sport is not in my wheelhouse so I’m of no help to him. But he figured out how to bend his knees at the bottom of the slope.

He keeps making incremental risks and discoveries with each visit. I remarked on this to my friend, Eric, and he quipped, “Even five-year-olds have a built in risk meter.

To which I’d add – “that works.A certain amount of risk is necessary in order to learn. We have to be willing to look foolish, expose ourselves as newbies, and try something in order to quit it. I mention that last one because it’s often my barrier – I hate quitting things so I often won’t start something so that I can prevent having to quit.

So, I’ll speak for myself when I say that one way that life becomes rutted for me is when my risk meter breaks. Everything new will peg too high on the meter so then I try nothing. I’ll claim my past risks as badges that insulate me from ever having to try anything new again. And then I stop learning.

The funny thing about risk is that it’s a little contagious as well. The next time we went to the skate park my nine-year-old daughter, Miss O, came along. Seeing her brother try the gradual slopes encouraged her to do the same.

So here’s to being open to taking the right risks in life.

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!

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)

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)

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.