Goodbye 2009

Wow. I've been a little busy I guess. I have at least been thinking about blog posts though. This blog has been purely selfish lately in that, I mull over what I want to post around 11:00pm at night before I drift off to sleep. I never get around to writing, but at least my thoughts get organized.

I have been thinking a lot about what I want to accomplish in the new year. But first, let's look back at what I learned in 2009:

1. Things cannot bring you happiness (except when they do). Mostly I am referring to my new home. Once I moved in, I was a little disappointed that I didn't suddenly become the perfect person I thought I would be when I got a nicer home. But I soon realized that that sort of change had to come from within. Also, this single material thing (my home) has brought me more joy than I can imagine. The extra room, the nicer amenities, the neighborhood, the layout has all really impacted my life. But I know that this joy is mostly from the appreciation I now have for my home.

2. I have almost no control over anything. This may sound depressing, but it actually is quite freeing.

3. Perception makes up about 90% of life. Attitude is everything.

I'm sure there were many more things, both trivial and ground-breaking, that I learned this year, but those are probably the top three.

Now, for 2010.

I like to make resolutions. Virgos are the masters of self-improvement, therefore making resolutions isn't something I take lightly. I make resolutions monthly (if not weekly sometimes), so it comes rather naturally. My favorite New Year's resolution (or perhaps the only one I can remember) was made the year after Finn was born. I resolved to put more effort into my appearance. I'd spent too many years being embarrassed at myself for leaving the house in sweatshirts, yoga pants and a ponytail. I still get lazy sometimes, but I think back to that resolution and it bulks up my motivation.

However, I am beginning to think that I spend entirely too much time thinking about myself and my short comings. I think it would benefit myself and others if I quite navel-gazing and starting thinking about other people and their problems and what I can do to help them. Therefore my official New Year's Resolution for 2010 is:

Think more about others than myself

That's it. I have some amazing, giving, charitable friends and family whom I can use as mentors. And the thing that I look forward to most in 2010 is spending time with them.

What did you learn in 2009, and what are your resolutions for 2010?

Abracadabra

I am increasingly amazed by what wonderful living conditions (most) humans in the United States live in. At what other time in history could you be perusing the local shops, hear a man cough 20 feet away and instantly put a magic slimy goo on your hands to prevent getting whatever it is that he is spewing? To the Ancients of 500 years ago, liquid hand sanitizer is essentially black magic. You rub your hands together and, voila! you are protected from (once again, most) bacteria and illnesses.

Protein Bars. Oh how I love protein bars! They come with chocolate in them, yet they still aren't considered a candy bar (at least not by me, anyway)! Anywhere you are, just unwrap and enjoy the energy boost. You can pack a hundred and they would probably sustain you up Mt. Everest. It's brilliant. I embrace the day that we all eat little flavorful pills like in The Jetsons. Protein bars will do for now.

It's true that you turn into what you are most afraid of. In my case, that is a person who cannot function until she's had her morning cup of coffee. Most mornings, I find it very tedious to fill up the water, throw out the old grounds and refill with new before pushing the little button and waiting for the pot to fill up. But when I really think about it, the coffeepot is another little bit of magic for our time. How much more grumpy would I be if I had to start a fire, go down to the river for water, and then grind my own beans before enjoying a cup of joe?

Finally, I wonder how ancients got rid of their trash. Did they have trash collection 500 years ago (Bring out your dead!)? And if they did, could it possibly have been any easier than what we enjoy now? Drop the bag in the can, push it to the curb and forget about it. Of course, I only forget about it until I read an article about how much we pollute, but still, pretty darn easy.

There you have it. This Thanksgiving I am thankful for hand sanitizer, protein bars, coffeepots and trash men. And a multitude of other modern magic that makes my life simpler. Thank you.

Just Be

Have you ever tried to meditate?

You sit there, free your mind of all thoughts and "Just Be."

I've always been the type of person that thought I was doing something wrong when I meditate. If I could just lock in on the right mantra, I was sure I could stop all the thoughts whizzing through my head long enough to get to the perfect "Be" state.

Now I realize that it's okay to let your mind wander while meditating; it's supposed to be unstructured play time for your mind. A pure thought-less meditative state is really just icing on the cake. However, it still bugs me. I think the reason I have a deep obsession with sleep isn't because I'm tired, it's because I crave the ability to be out of control of my brain.

I am beginning to think that the concept of "Just Be-ing" is somewhat of a crock for women (or at least women like me). It was very simple as a girl: I believed in the notion that women could grow up, have a fantastic, exciting job and successfully raise a loving, close-knit family. And I know that many women can both. However, I am beginning to think that they are the exception and not the rule.

This may sound cynical, but it's not. I think that either choice can be very fulfilling and I am happy with the choices I've made. But every so often I peek over that fence, check out how green the grass is, and think, "What would it be like if every day weren't filled with cooking, cleaning, and disposing of other people's feces?" (I'm sorry, I know I reference feces way too much, but it really has become a large part of my day)

A major part of life is accepting the things you cannot change. And I am now accepting that if I want that lovely, close-knit family that I dream of, I have to do some dirty work. That is just the mother's job. Cook, maid, chauffeur, tantrum-tamer, and fecal-waste collector are all just a part of my job description. In order to let everyone else in the house "Just Be," I (and also my husband, who probably does a lot more housework that I should be letting him) have to take on the taskwork.

And maybe some day, when my minions can do these things for themselves (okay, probably not until they move out altogether), I can get my turn to "Be."

The Magic of Wonder

Today, I introduced my son to The Wizard of Oz. I began by getting him hooked on "Follow the Yellow Brick Road." Once that was firmly stuck in his head (and he had done his rendition for all the fellow consumers at the quick oil change place), we came home to watch the DVD.

I cried. I cried when Miss Gulch tried to take away Toto. I cried when Dorothy was stuck in the tornado (and what? They couldn't hear here banging on the darn shelter door?). I cried when the Munchkins set her off down the yellow brick road. I cried at just what a great actress Margaret Hamilton was.

Nostalgia and joy combine to create a certain force, that, when it hits you, all you can do is cry. I answered F's non-stop questions about the movie between great gulping sobs. Thank goodness my daughter was sleeping! If she had been at all delighted while Dorothy danced around, I'm sure my happiness sensors would have burst and I might possibly have gone on a marathon movie-watching schedule of Oz, Mamma Mia, and White Christmas for the next week. I would have been discovered as a sobbing wreak who could only mouth showtunes.

What is it about sharing something from our childhood with our offspring that makes us so joyful? My theory is that, while a bad mood spreads quickly (misery loves company and all that), so does a great one. Evoking the warm fuzzies through movie nostalgia brings about a truly great mood in me. Perhaps some of the best I've been in (Rosemary Clooney is my official therapist). It's one of the best ways for me to show my kids my happiness. And after seeing a million tiny Storm Troopers this Halloween, I think I'm not the only one.

What are some of your favorite movies or music that you like to share with your kids?

Forward Motion

"Take advantage of your generation's technology"

Have you ever just really, REALLY wanted to get some work done (like writing a new blog post!), but your kid won't play quietly with his puzzles and leave you alone? That's about the time that I turn on the good ole telly and let it babysit my kid for awhile. No sooner have I turned my back and started walking back to the computer than that familiar and grating voice in my head starts chirping: "That's not how they did it 100 years ago!"

You know the one.

It's the same voice that says "They didn't have anti-depressants 100 years ago." No, they didn't. They had cocaine.

It's the same voice that reminds you "There were no cartoons in the Middle Ages." No, there was Black Death to keep everyone entertained.

It's the voice that makes you ashamed of using technology. Ashamed of taking advantage of modern advancements. And why should you be ashamed? Are you not as good as the people that used to (and still do) make their apple pie from scratch? Maybe not in the area of baking, but in all other aspects, you are.

How best to get rid of this voice? For me, it's to proclaim it's uselessness in the loudest form I can access; i.e. this blog. Therefore, annoying nay-sayer: Pack up. You are evicted. I have no shame in doing things better, faster, stronger than my ancestors.

Two quotes for your brain to chew on:

"The past is another planet"--Glenn Reynolds
This is not to say that the past is so remote that you should neither learn from or remember it. But it is so remote that it shouldn't dictate your daily life.


"If the people from the past could see us now, they would think that we were gods"--paraphase from Dan Brown's "The Lost Symbol"

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In addition, you will see that this quote has earned a rank in my "Life Lessons" list at the right on my blog. I want to explain that this list isn't a guidebook for me (I've given up trying to find that), and it's not a list of commandments that I must obey. It's just a way for me to collect and display things that I have found to be true. And, that, of course, is what this blog is all about!

Godly Things

I just finished the new Dan Brown novel, "The Lost Symbol," and I found the message completely amazing. I won't give anything away, but here's a hint:

Don't you know that you are a temple of God, and that God's Spirit lives in
you?
1 Corinthians 3:16

Those that know me know that I never go spouting Bible verses, but this one is resonates with me.

It's all about empowerment. We are the people that we look for in the heavens. We have the power to do miraculous things, and we have done them. Inside us is the Creator and the Creation.

(side note--I'm beginning to really wish I had majored in Philosophy. But that would probably be about as useful as, say, Geography, huh?)

Despite all the mediocre reviews I've read, the book is fascinating. I suggest anyone who wants to do a little soul-searching (you don't have to search far) to pick it up.

Life Lessons

While reading the many magazines I accumulate each month (seriously, why did I subscribe to so many parenting mags 3 years ago? Just how insecure was I? I was literally at the point where I got about 10 a month. I haven't renewed in 2 years, but they just keep coming) I often go on info-overload. How am I supposed to do EVERYTHING that they say you should? And, of course, I have to do EVERYTHING--magazines are the mecca of human knowledge. Not taking every supplement or making every spinach-infused smoothie for my kids perpetually added to my aforementioned guilt.

And then on top of that are the news programs (which I almost entirely skip unless I'm waiting in a doctor's office). AND the commercials telling you which probiotic yogurt you should be eating this week to make you stop farting.

It's just too much.

Then it hit me: LIVE YOUR LIFE.

Not Dr. Oz's. Not the editor of Parenting or American Baby. Not even Jamie Lee Curtis' (although I'm sure her bowels are spotless).

You are the only person that is ever going to live your life. Do it however you want to. There are no rules (although I've spent 26 years looking high and low for them). You are solely responsible for whatever your life turns out to be.

On the grand scheme of things that's huge news. You can live where you want, be what you want, be with who you want. On the smaller scale (where I usually reside), it's also big news. I don't have to follow the guidelines provided by those that want me to buy something. I CAN eat the more tasty, non-organic, sugar-ridden, higher-fat yogurt I like. I can ignore all the advice to get my baby off the bottle at the moment she turns 12 months old. I can even drink tap water with no fear (we all have to die sometime!). I can do whatever the hell I want.

"Live YOUR Life" has become a mantra for me. Especially at times when I compare myself to others. I am not my neighbor. I am not my friend. I am not Oprah. And that means I don't have to live like them either if I don't want.

These 3 words are slowly evolving my life.