Let This Glorious Day Begin

 

 

This morning is still. Quiet.

It’s early yet.

Fleece blanket around shoulders, tea mug in hand, I lean into the translucent morning breathing the crackling December air.

I can see my own breath, and the steam rising from the fragrant tea.

Dogs happily run through frosted grass.

Birds chirp their morning songs.

Close my eyes.

Open my ears.

Senses alive.

Take it all in.

Yes, I feel it.

Deep satisfaction.

Deep love.

Deep connection.

In-the-marrow knowing: I love and am loved.

Lips move into an instant and unstoppable grin.

On this still and expectant Christmas morning, I’ve received the first gift: Profound appreciation for this one precious life of mine.

Silent, prayerful thanks flow like a river coated with ice – underneath it’s constant, steady, powerful.

Reverie.

Until yipping dogs announce it’s time to go inside.

And so I do.

Full to the brim.

Full of joy.

Of hope.

Of love.

I think: Let this glorious day begin.

And it has.

 

 

What Did You Do?

 

I love this time of year.  Yes, the spirit and the festivities and the cool snap in the air.  Love that.

But I also love this time of year because of a reflective ritual I always perform – by myself, and for myself.

Every December, I sit down and write down my 25 Accomplishments for the Year.

Now, I know – twenty-five seems like a lot. Especially this year. Especially when you think the only accomplishments that matter are things like:

1.  Cured cancer.

2. Brought peace to the Middle East.

3. Joined the 1%.

4. Married a Kardashian.

But your own accomplishments are whatever you say they are. Case in point, how about the sweeping magnitude of this item from my own list:

16.  Took my medicine daily.

Sounds pretty trivial, huh?  Plus, taking medicine is something I “should” do, right?  OK, but you know plenty of people don’t take what’s prescribed to them, don’t you?  It’s ultimately a choice for health, wellness and self-care, and it’s a choice I’m conscious of making every day since I was treated for thyroid cancer in 2008.

I’m proud of this accomplishment, as small as it may seem in comparison to having your own TV reality show.

Yep, when I look at my list, I realize just how productive I’ve been this year, creating several new programs and earning more income than ever before.

Ever.

Now, there’s an accomplishment that feels really good.

All my accomplishments feel good, to tell you the truth, once I put them on paper and honored them.

My list of 25 Accomplishments – overachiever that I am, turned out to be 28 items – gave me a launching point to look at how my accomplishments line up with my key values. Know your own values? Think about the things that light you up, the things that are vitally important, the things you can’t live without. For me, it’s:

  • Taking care of my financial, spiritual and emotional health
  • Being a good enough parent
  • Leading
  • Learning

Being the nerdy geek girl that I am, I actually tabulated how many of my accomplishments related to one or more of my values, using teeny-tiny hash marks.  And guess what?  That information is already pointing me to what I want to do more of in 2012.

Sweet.

And useful. Practical. And really productive.

Want to give it a shot yourself? Hey, if you need some help figuring it all out, download the Personal Planning Tool for 2012 – available at my website as my gift to you. You can use the Tool to review 2011, identify your accomplishments, and get your thoughts together for what you’d like to get done next year.

And if you want, you can take it to a whole other level by making another list – let’s call it The Gratitude List.  Can you list 25 people or things you’re grateful for?

I can.  Again, the overachiever in me found twenty-six items to list, but let me tell you about:

10.  The kindness of strangers.

And,

11.  People who help me when I ask.

Kinda linked, yet kinda not.  But I’ll tell you, I could never have had as many accomplishments in 2011 if it hadn’t been for #10 and #11.

If it hadn’t been for you.

Because you are on my Gratitude List. You readers and clients, family and friends.

Oh, you’re on my List. Right up there at the top.

Right where you belong.

 

 

Forgiveness Poem


My offering for National Poetry Month:

I forgive.

I forgive myself. I said stupid things, did stupid things.

More than once. [Much more than once.]

I did not understand then. I understand now.

I understand the why. I understand the how.

And I understand who I need to be today.

Right now.

Here.

With you.

I forgive you for all of your errors. Even if they caused me pain.

[The suffering was my choice.]

Oh, you had demons.

And demons had you.

Maybe still do.

I honor the lessons I’ve learned.

So I forgive you. And I can even thank you.

[Who would have ever thought that?]

I forgive us, for all the times we think we can heal the whole big planet.

Without first looking to heal ourselves.

I forgive us for our collective fascination with the unimportant [news that isn't news, manufactured drama, featureless fads].

How we let them control our emotions, building a mounting tsunami of anxiety.

I forgive us for allowing ourselves to be swept away.

[And failing to keep an eye on what's really important.]

[Which is love.]

Oh, it’s forgiveness we need. The whole big planet of us.

We know how.

And we know who.

[It's us. To each other. For each other.]

Let’s not make the past hurts present.

Let’s not let them drive our days.

Let’s acknowledge the pain (it’s real) and allow ourselves the grace to be better (now).

Can you forgive?



Thankful Thinking



Fall leaves




I once heard someone ask Oprah Winfrey, “Do you pray?”

“Are you kidding?” the world’s wealthiest woman replied.  “I walk around on my knees.”

Boy, that stuck with me.

And it’s in that spirit of grateful living that I ask you to take time this week, especially, to walk around on your knees.  To be fully conscious of gratitude.  To truly give thanks.

I’ll go first.

I am so blessed to have smart, insightful, kind, sometimes obstinate, often shower-needy, perfectly imperfect teenagers – Munroe and Grace Woodward.  Even on the most difficult days, being their mother is my life’s greatest gift.

I, for one, am gratefully conscious that while there are 42.2 million Americans receiving food stamps, I can provide food for my family by the work that I do.

I am thankful for the emergency room physician’s assistant who capably, cleanly, neatly put five stitches in my lip last week after I caught a fast softball pitch right in the kisser.

I appreciate my dear internist who removed the stitches – I think it hurt him more than it hurt me.

Every day I speak with friends from Singapore to Rome.  How? I log in to Facebook.  And while it takes time and effort to be on Facebook, all relationships take time and effort. This is just a new way to do it. And I’m glad for it.

I am routinely astonished that I learn something new every day.

I love the friend I spoke with last night.  A little whacked out on morphine after surgery, she told me she loved me and was so happy.  It’s my pleasure to tell her the same. [Not that she'll remember it this morning. But she knows.]

I can watch a great movie like Crazy Heart in my own home, in front of a roaring fire, whenever I want.

Great opportunities keep coming, like my new blog premiering at Psychology Today this week.

Sometimes, after being out in the cold for a while, having central heat feels like the biggest luxury ever.

The Circle of 12 brings joy to my heart.

My work makes a difference.

I know what you’re thinking: “Nice sentiments. But so what?”

Being in touch with all these wonderful, mundane, spectacular things gives me strength to muster the courage to handle the hard things.

Because there are always hard things. And tough days. And challenges.

That’s life.

That’s happiness.

And that’s exactly what I’m most thankful for.

Gratitudinous


I am grateful for:

Teenagers who aren’t too cool to giggle with their mom.

Friends who throw parties. And let me tour their upstairs.

Crocuses.

The promise inspired by synthetic Easter basket grass.

Smart people who become business partners.

Resiliency.

England Dan and John Ford Coley. And ITunes.

Shoes that fit and look cute.

Love.

Great salads.

The ability to take chances.

Writers of books that make me think.

Friends who move to Costa Rica to start a new life.

Email.

Being able to express myself.

Kissing a baby’s feet.

Creating.

The feet in sand, fingers in seawater kind of vacation.

Which I will be doing this week. So, enjoy yourselves in my absence. And remember: it’s hard to be stressed when you’re grateful. List the things you’re grateful for… and it will be just like you’re on vacation, too.