The Best Thing I've Ever Written

Not this post.  A different post.  In fact, several different posts.  Because every now and then I write one of those posts.  And someone comments or sends me a message or tells me in person that what I've just published on my blog is the best thing I've ever written.

Those are good days, I'm not gonna lie.  I enjoy hearing that from people.  But how can multiple posts be the best thing I've ever written?

When I first got that comment I tried to analyze my post.  What had I done differently?  What made this post better than other posts?  How could I replicate that?

And I've learned that it's not all about me and what I put out there.  That's part of it.  But another part, maybe a more important part, is what's going on in the reader's life when they read what I've written.

Sometimes I write funny, although mine is generally a dry wit.  Sometimes I write tragedy.  Sometimes I write philosophical.  Sometimes I write spiritual.  I even occasionally write slap stick.  And any of these could be the best post I've ever written -- for you, at that time.

My writing is most powerful when it touches something within the reader.  Maybe I made you laugh about something you were taking too seriously in your own life.  Maybe I answered a question you had.  Maybe I helped you find the path you were looking for.  Maybe I inspired you to make a change.  Maybe I offered you hope or strength when you needed it most.  Maybe I pointed out something so obvious that you've always known but have never told yourself.  Maybe only one sentence from an entire post pierces your heart but was exactly what you needed that day.  Or maybe so many other things.

The more I've blogged, the more I've learned that the best writing is a collaborative effort between the writer and the reader even if we never talk to each other about it.  And I am so lucky when I get to know that magic happened because someone who read what I wrote told me it touched their heart.

I hope I have many more best posts in me.  I hope you are moved by what I write.  I am honored to experience the magic with you.

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 Beautiful Neighborhood

Tonight, as I let the dog in, I took the opportunity to admire my neighborhood.  I stood on my porch and looked at the homes within my immediate view and was overwhelmed with love and gratitude.

I am incredibly fortunate to live in my neighborhood.  I love the location.  I love the view from my porch.  But most of all, I love my neighbors.

There are some younger than us, some older than us, and a few of the wise and wonderful generation.  And each of them has touched my life in some way.

Our immediate neighbors have been incredibly understanding and forgiving during times when the volume between my husband and me was intense.  And again when my children held a picnic on their porch and didn't clean it up.  They have been kind and helpful.  They have watched over us.  They have been an emergency contact for my children when we were away; I felt comforted knowing they were there for my kids.

The ones on the other side I don't know as well.  The parents only speak Spanish and I don't.  We haven't really connected verbally.  But they have been polite and friendly.  We wave at each other with a big smile.  Even without many words, there is a tenderness there.  An understanding that we are neighbors.

Across the street is my neighbor who is 95 (give or take a year).  He frequently walks across the street and visits with me and my kids when we're in the yard.  He brings us produce from his garden.  He talks to my kids about the activities they are involved with.  He tells me about his family and all that they are up to.  And he loves us.  In the way he talks to us and smiles at us, I know that he does.

And all along the street I can see people who are kind to me.  People who have helped me.  People who look out for me and my kids.  People who see when I'm having a bad day and give me a hug.  People who look past the irritating things we do and are still our friends.  People who've had hard times and learned lessons and shared them.  People who speak with love from their heart.  People who are open to connecting and aren't afraid of being loved.

I hear of people who don't get along with their neighbors or who live in unsafe neighborhoods and I am sad.  I wish everyone had a neighborhood like I do.

Each of these people has touched my heart.  Each of them has served me at one time or another.  And if asked each of them would probably say that they didn't do much.  But isn't that the point of a neighborhood?  If we all do a little to take care of each other, everything important will get done.

I'm in Love!

I am in love -- that uncontrollable, undeniable, can't concentrate, obsessed, just-want-to-be-with-them, always-thinking-of-them kind of love.

And *sh* don't tell, but I'm not talking about my husband. 

(Okay, kind of.)

I'm talking about people.  People of all shapes and sizes.  All personality types.  All colors.  All walks of life.  The more, the better.

And I know that the phrase "in love" is generally used to describe romantic love but, with the English language being so imprecise, I've got to use what I've got.  And saying that I love people just doesn't cut it.  It's not powerful enough.

I am in awe of them.  I want to bask in their presence.  I want to soak up whatever it is that's emanating from their souls.

I don't get star-struck in the traditional sense.  I have no desire to meet famous people just because they are famous.  But there are people who come into my life, people who sometimes don't even know I'm watching them, that floor me.

And there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why I admire them.  Sometimes they have been through hard times and come out stronger and better.  Sometimes they are in the middle of hard times and are willing to show their pain.  And sometimes they make a comment that exhibits a depth of character that I didn't know was there.

Sometimes it's their mind.  They talk about things on a different level and invite me to come along.  They challenge me to be more; and I want to.

Sometimes it's in their voice.  They speak with tenderness and a reverence that reminds me that I am from a higher place.  That there are angels with me.

Sometimes it's their smile.  It's not just a beautiful smile.  It's warm and inviting.  It's like hot chocolate.  Some people have a hot chocolate smile that they share with those they meet in this cold winter world.

Sometimes it's in their handshake, as they look deep into your eyes and their eyes say that you are wonderful.  They've seen your soul and wholeheartedly approve.

Sometimes it's in their hug.  A hug that gives and receives at the same time.  It makes you feel powerful.  It makes you feel humble.  It makes you feel you are more than before.

And sometimes it's in watching how they interact with others.  It's amazing what you can learn about a person just by watching them.

Those who inspire me the most, who give the most to me, are those whose souls are open.  They are secure in themselves spirit and body and want to share and grow together.  And they aren't frightened if I openly love and admire them.

They are everywhere.  People who have seemed so two-dimensional for years suddenly blossom into three dimensions and beyond.  Flowers that radiate unimaginable colors.  Colors that warm and soothe and welcome.

Maybe they always were and I just didn't see it before.  Or maybe it just took a while for them to find their wings and soar.

And you're probably one of them.  Today, may you blossom and soar!

Coffee Talk

I have a deficiency.  A need, if you will.  I need a neighborhood coffee shop.

Okay, not really a coffee shop.  I don't actually drink coffee.  But I need something like it.  I need a place where I can go and just be.  Alone, with a friend, or with a group of friends.  A place to just be.  Neutral territory.  No time limit and no tasks to complete.  A place to think or to visit.  A place to share or to plan.

I imagine that there are a few places like this around.  But I have not found them.  I have tried many to see if they fit.  Some are okay, others a wreck.  Not one of them is just right.

Finding a place to ponder alone is generally a little easier, especially in good weather.  A park.  The mountains.  The library.  The museum.  My car.

A place for visiting with friends is a little more difficult.  Again, good weather opens up more opportunities.  And if you want to share a meal, there are many choices.  But what if you just want to share each other's company?  A small snack or drink and lots of conversation.  How do you do that?

There's something to be said for meeting somewhere.  Out.  Not at each other's houses or the local Hogi Yogi.  Somewhere with atmosphere.  Somewhere relaxing.  Somewhere comfortable.

And then once I find the place, I have to convince others of the value of taking time doing nothing.  Just being together.  Sharing a space.  Experiencing each other's thoughts and feelings.

But I guess I'd better stick to one thing at a time.  On with the hunt!

You're Grounded!

Alright, so maybe you aren't grounded.  But I am.  And I love it.

A major road into and out of town has been closed for about a year for construction.  It was frustrating and inconvenient.  There were so many places that it was now incredibly difficult and convoluted to get to.  There has been much griping, moaning, and gnashing of teeth over the whole affair.

So when the road reopened a little earlier than expected, there was much rejoicing (Huzzah!).  Everyone was so excited to use the new road.  And it is a beautiful road, let me tell you.

But my joy was not full until I drove on the road back into town.  You see, I grew up here.  And that road has special meaning to me.  Year after year, trip after trip.  That road welcomed me home.  Crossing the overpass into town is like walking into a warm hug for me.

You see, I am grounded in Springville.  We are a part of each other.  Through all the chaos, the heart wrenching times, Springville was the strength beneath my feet.

As I drive through Springville, memories wash over me like a healing rain.  I see my old schools.  The houses I used to live in.  The parks I played at.  The ball diamonds where I felt powerful.

And better yet, I see the homes of those who touched my life.  I see my band director's home.  And I remember his love for me.  I see my bishop's home.  And remember his love for me.  I see the homes of relatives, teachers, friends, and so many others who made me who I am.  And most of all, I see my grandmother's home.  The most heavenly, welcoming place I've ever been.  I remember her love for me and my love for her and I am complete.  I am good enough.  In fact, I am wonderful.

So, I would like to say to my pioneer ancestors who chose to settle here, thank you so much!  Thank you for giving me Springville.  Because no matter how much it's changed or grown, it's still my home -- and it will always be in my heart.