The Guy With the Boat

I recently finished Nicholas Sparks' latest novel The Longest Ride and in it, one of his characters told a story about a guy who had a boat.

It was a small boat at first, just enough to get him from his little cottage on the beach out to sea where he could fish and catch his daily meal.  Eventually, he went a little farther out and caught bigger fish, and extra fish to sell.  The fish kept getting bigger and more plentiful, and the more money he made, the bigger his boat got until he had an entire fleet of boats and his fishing business made him very wealthy.  He was able to live in a huge mansion, but the daily stress of running a large, successful business wore him down, until all he wanted to do was retire to a small cottage on the beach and get a small row boat so he could go out in the ocean each day and fish for the pleasure of it.

Life indeed comes full circle for many of us, and the things that you once wanted to be a million miles away from suddenly you're desperate to return to.

Every year in upstate New York I struggled through winter.  I grumbled as I slipped and slid in the snow and slush, I cursed the cold white stuff as I scraped my frozen car off in the morning before work, and this past year we were unable to send the kids out in it even to play, that's how bitter cold it was.  I was so over it, I couldn't wait to never see it again.

Enter Florida.  We were given an opportunity and we ran with it, and it's been a good run.  As I packed up our entire New York household in a matter of days, I decided to take our winter stuff with us.  Sure, I've shucked some coats and things along the way, but I kept almost everything.  And as I unpacked all of my summer clothes and shoes down here in Florida, I kept thinking about the end of summer and how I liked to pull on a pair of jeans, a sweater and my cowgirl boots with ease.  I simply pushed those thoughts of seasons changing out of my mind.  I was sick of that, right?  Silly me.

Except I wasn't.  I knew deep down that as much as I loved summer, I didn't mourn its end each year, because I loved fall just as much.  And just as I was ready to scream if another flake of snow fell, each year the winters passed and I inhaled the sharp, earthy scents of spring with joy.  Winter was always something awful to endure, but spring, summer and fall made up for it in many ways.

And then there's our family and friends.  Why did I think it would be easy to leave everyone behind?  Because they would visit?  It's not same, Skype doesn't replace a warm meal with friends or a family cookout, and our children deserve to be surrounded by people who love them.

It's hard to believe that it's October already when it seems like it was yesterday that we moved to Florida.  The time has gone by so fast.  It's the Groundhog Day effect -- each day the same with no change in sight.

So, I guess I am the guy with the boat.  I have come full circle in realizing what's important.  In this short journey I have realized what I want to return to.

Now, where's my boat?

Still Searching

I came up with the term "counting years" to describe the years in youth that we spend yearning for the next level, constantly wishing we were older so we could do more.  I thought the counting years ended in my twenties when I had reached those desired age landmarks and surpassed them with little to show for it.

Yet it seems we keep the counting years alive in our minds.  In these older years though, the goal posts we are aiming for just look a little different.  Striving for a better job, more money, a better title, moving to a bigger house and so on.  Is it just that we are never happy with what we have?  For some people, I'm sure that's true, and the quest for more is strictly material and monetary, and those folks will never be happy.

For the rest of us, I believe it's more about fine tuning.  Tweaking this or that to come up with the best combination of people/jobs/environment that helps us be our best selves, and by doing so creating contentment along the way.  But how do we find contentment with what we have, and when do we decide to change our circumstances in order to be happy?

It's not that I try not to look back in life, it's that I try to grow on past experiences and glean the appropriate lesson.  I am thrilled we moved to South Florida for so many reasons.  Before we moved, my husband and I were working almost 24 hours a day between our full-time jobs and running our own business.  This move has seemed like an extended vacation, with the side benefit of us making more money and working less hours and having an entire ocean as our playground when we aren't working.  I am hesitant to complain about living here because of the amenities that surround us, but unfortunately, South Florida is missing some vital elements I need in my life to truly be content.  Having said that, I am content, for now, because I'm not quite ready for this vacation to end.

As I get older, and my counting years dwindle down, I seek a quieter life, a simpler life, and I know we will create this for ourselves.  For now, this is our journey to get there.

Mom-ivation

I struggle with keeping upbeat around my kids at times.  I work Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. and at the end of the day all I want to do is change into my tank top and yoga pants, hit the couch and attempt to conquer the latest level in Candy Crush.

I do not want to make dinner, but I do.

I do not want to load the dishwasher every night, but I do.

I do not want to pick up clothes, start laundry, put the house back in order -- only to have it destroyed again as soon as my little ones wake.

But I do.

What keeps me motivated?  I would say ninety percent is just a deep down driven determination I possess to get things done.  The other ten percent is in the silly little motivational quotes and photos people pass around Facebook.  Ridiculous as it sounds, if I find a saying I connect with or read something inspirational, it keeps me going.

This all means, of course, that I make sure I find the time every day to log on to Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest in order to find these things I like or to get inspired.

The other thing I do is to try and take those frustrating parenting moments not as seriously.  Yes, when my two-month-old son projectile pooped on my shirt, some of it splashing up into my hair, I wanted to cry, scream and immediately shower.  But I was changing him on the floor of my office since I had stopped in with him before my return from maternity leave to touch base on a project and I couldn't do any of that.  So I finished changing his diaper, I rinsed the poop out of my hair and wiped it off my shirt best I could, and then I shared the story.  I got a ton of Facebook likes, laughs and giggles out of my projectile poop moment. After all, what else can you do?

So how do you keep up your motivation?  You can read other motivational tidbits here: http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2DZAXu/voiceboks.com/how-do-you-get-your-mom-motivation/

That inspired me to blog today - I hope it inspires other parents out there to find some "you" time!

Raising Kids With or Without Religion

Mommybites, formerly babybites, recently tweeted an article about raising kids without religion. The article had some good advice, and it is a tricky line. I know, because I was raised without religion.  A lot has changed since I was a child, but as far as religion in our lives, or rather the lack, it seems some things haven't changed at all.

I have always recognized what a firestorm this topic can set off, as it did when CNN posted a an article "Why I Raise My Children Without God," from a Texas mom and blogger that detailed why she chose to raise her kids without.

Growing up, I quickly realized I was different, and if I hadn't, my religious peers were certainly quick to point it out.  I often heard that I was going to hell for many reasons: I didn't go to church, I didn't believe in God, etc.  All of these snide remarks and judgments simply furthered my belief that I was being raised the right way.  After all, I was tolerant of other's beliefs, why couldn't they be tolerant of mine?  While I may not have been an expert on religion, Christianity specifically, I knew Christ taught compassion and forgiveness. So, where was mine?

What I've realized later in life is that it's not the religion that's judgmental, it's the person.  The Texas mom who was so quick to disparage what believing in God teaches to kids in her blog has made the same mistake as those who criticized me throughout the years.  She is just as close-minded as David Parker was in fifth grade when he told me I was going to hell when I told him I didn't attend church.

I now also know plenty of Christians who are accepting of others, no matter what.  Do they secretly believe they have the right religion on their side? Probably, but as long as no one's beliefs are being criticized, chastised or judged, to me that's a harmless belief.

What I do find disconcerting in this society is how adamantly people will advocate for their religion, but the minute there is someone on the other side doing the same, the judgments come spewing out.  If you find it acceptable to bless people that you speak to or utter a "Praise God," now and then, why can't you offer someone else the freedom to utter their own beliefs, even if they are contrary to your own?

As a parent, I do believe it's important for children to grow up with a sense of community, something that I lacked in my upbringing but sought out later in life.  I enjoy listening to positive messages and inspirational stories and would love for my children to grow up believing in faith.  Faith in God, if they choose, but also faith in people.  I want my children to look around at a sea of strange faces, with the realization those strange faces may turn to you and offer kindness out of no where.  I want them to live in that world.  To me, if it happens to have a religious backdrop or take place in a church, so be it.  I am still as open minded as I have always been, I just happened to have shaped my own beliefs along the way, and yes, they include a God.  It just may not look the same as your God.

And to me, that's ok.

Transition

“There is a time for departure, even when there’s no certain place to go.” -- Tennessee Williams

As a self-imposed wordnazi, I am quick to realize when someone uses a word they shouldn't, but, in today's lassez-faire and apparently rule-free English grammar, anything goes.  However, some words just simply don't fit.

Take change versus transition.  Often used synonymously, but carrying far different meanings and weight.  Change is short-lived, usually a one-time occurence.  You change clothes, you change planes, and sure, occaisonally you even change your mind.

But change is an active, energetic word.  It's like flipping a switch.  The light was off, now it's on.  That's a change.  It happened, it's over.  A blue room is now painted red.  It's been changed.  That part is over, completed.  Transition is not the change -- it's living with the change after it's been made.

How many of us are actually prepared for the transition when we decide to make the change?  Perhaps that is why some people choose not to embrace change.  They fear the transition and letting go of the sameness of each day.  An understandable fear -- it's a departure from comfort, routine and everything we are used to.  But with change and successful transition, you can carve out a new routine, new creature comforts and fall in love with the after product just as much as the original.

Now that I have sought out change I am actively looking forward to the transition.  I know those around me who love me are worried, for all the reasons noted above, and for the fact that I am not only changing my life, but also the lives of those around me.  But I also firmly believe in letting something other than fear rule my life -- like passion, conviction and faith. I have a passion for life and living and I let that rule my psyche.  I will get what I want in life and I will do anything to make it happen.  I have faith in my surroundings, in my abilities and in the actions of those around me, and where faith brings me, I know I can take it the rest of the way.

We do have a certain place to go, and we could not be happier to make this transition. 

"On a long journey of human life, faith is the best of companions; it is the best refreshment on the journey; and it is the greatest property."  -- Buddha

Temporary Girl

Have you ever said something in anger only to instantly wish you could grab those words midair and stuff them back in?  We all have.

And, once the anger is gone and tempers have cooled, it's easy to apologize and move on, and hopefully forget what you said, forget what you heard.

Not so easy when those angry words...are in print.

In a moment of passive-aggressive-woman-be-scorned-self-indulgence I created a written outlet for all the ways I felt wronged as a step mom, and I did it in the form of a blog.  Did it feel good to get my point across without getting interrupted, cut off, or dragged off track in my very one-sided conversation? I can't lie, of course it did.  And, in many ways, it helped just to have that outlet to vent.

However, venting wasn't the only word-weapon I armed myself with.  I also chose to launch snide, malicious, judgmental characterizations and other assaults with the written word.  Words that I have now deleted, but that have not been erased.

I haphazardly kept diaries and journals growing up, and when I've stumbled upon them later in life, I've often cringed at my own written word.  I sounded sad, needy, dumb, juvenile.  I would be embarrassed if someone else read those words, because today, those words seem so far away.  Those words do nothing to define who I am because they were temporary.  A transitional thought. 

And normally, those growing pains are all part of the course.  You can read those words, laugh at yourself, and put them aside.  In no way does that compare to the embarrassment of tossing words onto a page and having them recited back, when, once again, you no longer identify with their creator.  For me, those words were a means to getting over something.  Except this time my words weren't rotting away on a diary page in a plastic tub full of things from my past.  To someone else, the impression was far greater, and much longer lasting.

All I can say now, in sincere honesty, is that who ever was hurt or affected by those words I am incredibly sorry for that.  I am embarrassed.  That was not me.

Or, it was a temporary me, much like the 17-year-old girl that thought no one would ever love her. 

Affirmative Action

Just a quick thought for today.  I think, speak, and preach a lot about the power of positive thinking and visualization.  I do believe some people are turned off by these sentiments because they sound too new age, too hippy-dippy.

Today it occurred to me, it's really the power of affirmative thought that brings the action -- it doesn't necessarily have to be positive.  Case in point - yesterday I had a gut instinct that what at first seemed like a dream come true was really a nightmare in hiding.  My friend even told me he could "hear the anxiety in my voice" as we chatted over this dilemma on the phone.  Finally, near the end of the conversation, I told him I wished that the opportunity would just get taken away from me so I wouldn't have to say yes or no, and, lo and behold, that's exactly what happened.

It was a good lesson in affirmative action -- being positive doesn't mean you are walking through life every day humming Kum By Ya with a perma-smile on your face, it means you are making assured decisions, you are sure about your course of thought, and you are positive that is the direction you want to take.

Or in this case, not to take.