Living in the First Person, Present Tense

2012 was the year of KINDNESS for me.  It changed my life.  It changed me.  An entire year focused on one thing.  Kindness.  It was beautiful and glorious.  And while I will carry kindness forward with me, I am ready to move on.

This coming year I want to SEE.

I tend to be task oriented.  I get so focused on the task, the thing I am trying to accomplish, that I miss a lot.  I want to see more. 

I want to live in the first person, present tense.  I want to be truly present in the events and moments of my life.  I want to spend less time in the second person, worrying about what others do or should do.  I want to spend less time in the third person, observing life happening around me.  And I want to spend a lot less time in the past tense or future tense.  I want to be here.  Now.

Life is about moments.  It's about people.  It's about beauty.  That's where the glory of life happens.  But too often I miss it.

Instead of seeing the 360 degrees around me, I get stuck in tunnel vision.  Instead of seeing the technicolor of life, it becomes a grayish blur in my peripheral vision because I can't take my eyes off what's in front of me.

I want to see the beauty of a moment.  I want to rejoice longer as I watch my children enjoy each other's company.  I want to mourn deeper with my friends who are struggling.  I want to look more people in the eye and seek to understand.  I want to see progress in myself and acknowledge it and be proud of it instead of focusing on all the things I still need to fix.  I want to see purpose in the things I do by rote every day.

When I chose the word SEE to guide me in the next year, it felt so right.  It makes complete sense in my mind and heart.  It's about practicing mindfulness.  It's about making moments mean more.  It's about opening my heart wider.

I want to see with new eyes.  I want to see divinely.  I want to see as God sees.

I've had glimpses.  I sense that there will be times when my heart is overwhelmed.  I sense that I will cry more.  I will admit that I am a little frightened to completely open my heart and feel fully.  But I trust that this is the right next step.

And so, in faith I leap.

My Dream Car is a Truck

Over the last few years I've watched several friends excitedly buy a new car.  Exactly what they wanted.  Eyes dancing with joy.  Truthfully, I just don't have this experience with cars.  I don't think a car has ever made my eyes dance.  I did like watching the joy their dream cars brought them.

As I was driving down the freeway a while back, a nice car drove by.  I have no idea what kind it was.  I wasn't really paying that much attention, I just appreciated the aesthetics of it.  And it sparked a thought.  If I could have any car in the world, what car would I want?

Let me first say all I've ever wanted in a car is for it to run and do what I need it to do.  Get me and mine and our stuff from here to there.  That's it.  We currently own four cars (remember, I have five kids, ages 14-21).  One isn't running or registered.  All of them have multiple things wrong with them.  They are all either hand-me-downs or gifts from my parents.  As long as they run, I don't care what they look like.

We haven't had a car payment in years.  I hate having a car payment.  We have no plans to buy a car in the near future.

But if the universe suddenly wanted to give me the car of my dreams, this is what it would be.  It would be a Chevy pickup from the late 70s or early 80s.  It doesn't matter what color or whether it's two-toned or not.  A few dents would be nice.  It would be partly rusted out, maybe even a small hole in the floorboard.  The shocks would be somewhat worn so that we could really appreciate the bumps on unpaved roads.  It would be a stick shift that sometimes took both hands to get into reverse.  The bed would be dented and dirty from hauling anything and everything.  You'd have to really slam the tailgate to get it to close.  The windows and locks would be manual.  And since this is my dream car and it can be whatever I want, it would have a rebuilt engine that runs smoothly and gets great gas mileage, working air conditioning and heating and seat belts, and new tires.

Thinking about this took me back to all the trips to the livestock auctions on Saturday mornings, all the rides through the canyon, all the times I had to get out and open or close the gate, and the smell of hay mixed with manure while hauling horses.  The good times with my dad.

Completely impractical but oh, so nostalgic.  Isn't that what dreams are supposed to be?

When Disaster Strikes

It's been two days since the world turned upside down for thousands of people in Japan.  Two days of the rest of the world watching, with so many hoping and praying.  So many people wondering if their loved ones were okay.  Waiting for news.  Hoping for the best.

I only know one person in Japan.  A man I knew shortly after college.  A man I had a flirtation with.  A very sweet, tender-hearted man.  And through the magic of facebook we have been able to reconnect.  We exchange very little, but I am able to get small glimpses into his life every so often.  I feel like he is still my friend.

Today I found out that he and his wife are safe.  And I exhaled.  Because in a very real way I had been holding my breath for the last two days.  Checking facebook more often than usual just to see if he's posted.  Offering many prayers and thinking of him.

Because that was all I could do. 

And when disaster strikes that is often all any of us can do.  Wait.  Hope.  Think.  Pray.  And amid all the horror that has been happening (and will for some time to come) there has been beauty.  Beauty in seeing the rescue efforts under way.  Beauty in nations offering help to other nations.  An unknown brotherhood discovered as earthquake and rescue experts from California travel to Japan to help their family in need.  And the incredible outpouring of love and concern.

There are people who are oblivious, I suppose.  Who don't know what's going on or take time to care.  There may even be those who think it's a good thing because of some prejudice they have or a hard-heartedness about human life.  But I don't have time for those people.

The ones I see are those whose hearts are breaking open full of love and concern.

And while the word disaster generally makes us think of massive things, disasters can also be tiny in scale.  It can be a disaster even if it only affects a few people.  The loss of a child.  Receiving a diagnosis of a terrible disease.  Watching Alzheimer's transform someone you love into someone who doesn't know you.  So many things.

I hope we remember to allow our hearts to be broken open for those disasters, too.  Because while we can't save the world, we can touch lives. 

I can't fix the buildings that fell down.  I can't give everyone clean drinking water.  I can't bring back the people who were lost. 

So I offer what I can.  I offer my prayers because I never run out -- I have enough for everyone.  And I offer my heart.  Because no matter how full it is, no matter how many people I hold in my heart, there is always room for one more.

I Love Getting Intimate

Verbally, that is.

I love the one-on-one conversation.  Face to face.  Eye to eye.  Soul to soul.

It's best when there will be no interruptions.  And it only really works when both participants are interested.

But when two people choose to be honest with each other, open about who they are and how they feel, trusting that they are loved and accepted by the other person -- it's magical!

It can be deep.  It can be shallow.  It just needs to be real in order to have power.

When I am fortunate enough to have conversation like this, I am more.  I am more because this person chose to give of themselves to me.  They gave me part of who they are.  Usually, a tender part.  A precious part.

And when this part is added to all that I am, I grow. 

It takes a brave soul to allow others to see them purely.  To see them unvarnished.  Uncovered.  Open.  Flaws and all.

And only through conversations like this can we truly come to know that it is the flaws that make us beautiful.