When I started The Optimists Journal, writing was just beginning to be a tool for me to cut through generational pain. Piecing together memories and examining my life so I could figure out how I got to the present day felt like gutting a fish, a memory from Huntington Lake as a child that I won’t ever forget. Turns out, I am not much of a fisherman, but I am a healer. A healer of myself, a helping hand in other people’s healing, and, most hopefully, a healer for my children in this garden of life that grows some pretty good weed patches that need to be cleared to be able to bring in the harvest.
Tonight, I rolled in from a long and beautifully connected day at yoga teacher training, I had one teenager I was trying to locate and another doing a back to school AP Chemistry packet with his friend, laughing and eating candy in my kitchen as they worked. I wrestled through a tough situation with Matthew, my 11 year old, that is breaking my heart, trying to help him find his voice, speak his opinion calmly, and still be ok no matter the outcome of the situation. As moms, we get so good at thinking on our feet, multiple topics and conversations shooting past us in every direction. In my best moments, I can create a 3-D picture out of the myriad of topics running through the house, make it all relate, and capture one or two lessons that we can all learn from…I live for moments like that. So much so, that I have been given the nickname this summer of Zen Mom and Mother of Wisdom (from kids who aren’t mine) and making my 16 year old roll his eyes and plead with his friends, don’t tell her that (all in good fun, he’s a kind heart for sure).
Tonight I was feeling that level of healing power after the Sound Bath at Soho Yoga…yes, LA is a place where I have learned strange new things, adding to the Zen Mom nickname and causing my 13 year old to compare me to the grandma in Moana. Everything was connecting, even in the chaos of this Sunday evening. When Matthew asked me to read him a story before bed after ten o' clock, nothing sounded better. My older three are readers, so I have always kept trying with him, even though he has yet to take to reading as a legitimate pastime. We have a stack of books that have been our favorites since he was 5, with very little evolution of the list…one of the hallmarks of the sometimes maddening, sometimes comforting, life on the spectrum. Tonight it was the later because I still got to cuddle and read children’s books for just a little longer (cue the song by Lonestar, "Let Them Be Little" that gave me a good cry before I went to bed). There are many challenges raising Matthew, emotional regulation, social skills and making friends, anxiety, teaching optimism, (which doesn't seem to be his usual mindset choice) to name just a few, but there is a beauty in his simplicity and love for routine that we connect on, and reading the same stack of books is part of that process. He pulled Olivia out of his pile, and as we read the story that he could easily read, if not recite on his own, I realized what he needed from me in those moments. Routine, closeness and laughter…he hasn’t graduated to Harry Potter or even Wonder, among the favorites that I used to read to his sister. But tonight I found myself full of gratitude that I still get to lie in bed and read Olivia, all cuddled up and laughing together about her “moving the cat” to a kid who, based on his age and some of the thoughts in his head that loom so large and serious, should be far past this simple children’s story. Some of the richest things in life can be captured in the simplest moments and as I finished the story, I realized again that the universe had aligned, picking the right book on the right night.
”You know, you really wear me out, But I love you anyway.” - Olivia by Ian Falconer
As I close my computer after midnight because I have to get these moments down, I couldn’t be more grateful for the simple things that have the ability to cut through some of the pain that life creates…routine, closeness and laughter. I hope you find some of these in your day today.
I’m not sure when I broke through, but I realized it after Yin yoga on Sunday night. After an all day session of teacher training that started with a heated 75 minute Power Flow, Yin did what it does to me most of the time…it put me to sleep. As I lay there folded over on my blocks in Deer pose, I was dreaming that I was going to be called on for a answer that I couldn’t give, because I was asleep! Besides the sleep being so dreamy and appreciated, I realized, as we talked through the sequence after class with the teacher (another part of teacher training), that I have turned a corner in my life and truly know how to surrender…once again bringing the near daily tears to my eyes.
Surrender doesn’t happen because everything is exactly how I want it or because I have some checklist that has finally been attained. It’s definitely not because I’ve somehow become immune to challenging, or worse, harmful things happening to me or the people I love, something this life will never assure us. That fearful feeling of something dreadful happening was what brought me so much anxiety for many years after Matthew’s near drowning accident. For so long, I would have a burst of fear that would make me leap from my seat and go to find my kids to see that everything was ok. That feeling was usually not instigated by any major event, but rather an unexplained and irrational shock up my spine that annoyed people around me and probably made me look a bit crazy. It's taken a lot of work and strength over time to be able to release from that feeling but it has giving me so much freedom to choose and work to create a life that I see for myself. Anxiety is paralyzing, surrender is freedom.
These days though, my energy and focus is going into pursuing both what I love and what challenges me, and I have high hopes that what it produces overflows for the people around me. I attribute this higher energy in large part to this ability to surrender and not waste time on things that are out of my control. I’m trying to define what I have learned that has changed my mindset and, as usual, it can be easily stated, even if not entirely simple to follow.
1. Make choices for what I want to happen, rather than what I am trying to avoid.
Putting my energy into creating what I want to happen leaves a lot less time to think about the pitfalls that life may offer. When my energy shifted to creating my vision, and fear became more of a motivating factor than something to avoid, calm was much easier to find. For me surrender to the unknown comes both from faith and through the practicality of the work to create and foster what we already know we want, but just haven’t attained yet. Ambition, with a good plan behind it, curbs the fear of the unknown because all the sudden, the unknown becomes exciting instead of scary..the promise of potential. Hard work covers what it needs to to achieve, and faith gets to handle what is outside of my control (and as a mom, that feels like a lot of things!)
2. Have the confidence to bet on myself, unattached from others judgements or thoughts.
This week I made my one woman show a party of two and hired someone to help with with the technical parts of web design and social media that are not my forte (thanks Abe!). I want to use my talents, and since time is a finite issue, I now get to shift the weight of the tasks that were slowing me down to him, and do more of what appeals to me. His expertise also pushes me to do things that spread my reach but that I'm not necessarily comfortable with yet (ahh!! cameras!). In making this decision there were competing opinions and plenty of self doubt, but in the end, I’m betting on myself to succeed and that comes with the ability to surrender to the possibility of failure. I’m not risking the roof over our heads or food on the table, but learning to believe in my own potential rather than the voice of self doubt or the doubts of others is a big step towards any successful venture. The great thing about a growth mindset though is that failure becomes less of a focus when we we realize that there really is no failure, just lessons to learn, and if we keep learning, our potential is limitless.
3. Learn to use my voice, not just my written words. The more it comes out loud, the less scared it sounds...but man did it sound scared on FB Live this morning! It's ok..I'm going with it. Putting my voice behind my ever percolating thoughts out into the universe is scarier than writing and I had no idea it would make me so emotional! I've got a lot of old patterns to challenge, but my belief that we have so much to learn between generations is greater than my fear. Connecting those generations of people, whether they be friends, family or in the athletic or creative world is my purpose. And having a purpose is like coming home complete to flowers and a fireplace.
I got to use my voice on Tuesday and had so much fun interviewing two AVP athletes about their ride at the Manhattan Beach Open…the “game of life” is always fascinating and getting to be part of generational storytelling live is right up my alley. You can catch my first interviews on The Optimist Journal Facebook Page.
So today I surrender, to my lack of control, to what other people think, to the judgement that lies around every corner. We aren’t here to live other peoples lives and when we try, the comparison or lack of understanding between us is a sure happiness killer. I am here to connect and tell stories, to surrender and to look for the commonality in all of us. Be confident and surrender to the unknown, define your process and see where it takes you...amazing stories and real connections are right behind that.
As a sports fan, I read my fair share of sporting news, mostly in short spurts as I make my way through the day. I love sports for what they can teach us, how they bond us in community, and even for what they help us escape for just a little while. I am forever a fan of the underdog, the humble warrior, and the life lessons that come from the work put in in the hours before the spectators and fans are a part of the game. No matter the sport, who wins and loses is less important to me than the story behind the athlete or team that is in the battle. The Players Tribune, an online media platform where the athletes write stories about their life experiences and what they learn from them, is one of my favorites places to get to the story behind the story. If you are a sports fan, a life lesson fan, or just a fan of good writing, check them out and prepare to be inspired.
I’ve probably mentioned before that one of my biggest struggles in writing is believing that i have a story worth telling. From the time I was a kid, I have had (for lack of a better word) a ‘guilt complex’ because I was born in California to two loving parents, with a roof over my head and people to love who love me back. Success on this paved road that I have walked my entire life is easier than for those that walk a narrow dirt path on the edge of the mountain or a congested highway full of potholes. Knowing this, I have felt less than inclined to speak up. My life certainly hasn’t been without struggle, but to keep it in perspective, my struggles pale in comparison to so many other life experiences out there. In working through my perspective on this, and becoming braver with my voice, I’ve come to understand that all I can do is honor my God given talents with hard work, look for where I can be of service to others, and be real in working on my weaknesses. I know now that just because I have been abundantly blessed, perfection is not a mandate, and striving, learning and authenticity is at the heart of the good life.
As I read an article from NBC Sports about one of my favorite athletes, Kerri Walsh Jennings, the other day, telling her story of her quest for Tokyo 2020, impending retirement, and her new volleyball/music/health and wellness movement, P1440, chills rose on my arms when I read this quote:
“It’s so liberating when your weaknesses are exposed, when you live your worst nightmare and survive.” -Kerri Walsh Jennings
Here, one of the world’s greatest athletes is getting to the heart of the struggle to be real in this world. No matter the work we put in, or the talents and circumstances we are blessed with, we all have weaknesses and things we can work to improve. Our stories are not for comparison, but they are there for inspiration and learning from one another. Only when our weaknesses are exposed are we liberated to do the work to improve. When we are hiding our weakness from the world, too much time and effort goes into concealing instead of improving, not to mention the harm we can do to ourselves and others when we can’t come to terms with the realities of our own struggle. Our world becomes smaller and sadly, so does our impact to do good in a world that really needs us. I've learned this firsthand walking the road of Matthew's developmental struggles and most recently coming to terms with the effects of my split family. There is so much greatness though when we are vulnerable enough to show weakness, we find our tribe…the people who see our beauty within our struggle. They are there to collaborate, support, love, and provide inspiration for the journey.
Once again, the game of life doing what it does for me, wrapping up universal truth in competition and entertainment. The challenge…be real, struggles and all, the naysayers will still be there to strengthen our resolve but the tribe we discover when we are real is worth it’s weight in gold
Memories are both the keys to our past and the pavers of the bridge to our future. What we are able to tuck away can both sustain us and teach us because they give us reason to celebrate and chances to learn. They are exclusively our own, even if they are contested by someone else, my advice, don’t sweat it, let them have theirs, yours belong only to you.
The yogi’s say we store our memories in our hips, sounds strange to anyone who hasn’t practiced, but I can attest to some crazy stories popping into my head on my mat that I didn’t even know were there. There are a lot of them, considering that one of my firsts predates my second birthday. Most wouldn’t believe it, but I can still smell the fence that I used to rub my nose against, as I roamed the backyard early in the morning. My mom thought I was looking to see if the neighbors were awake yet and maybe we could go over, but I just remember the smell of the sweet, woody fence, and the feeling of having small splinters in the end of my nose. Interesting to me that neuroscience tells us that the sense of smell is closely linked to forming memories. Based on my experience, I'd buy it.
Yesterday though, my memory brought me back to the Starbucks drive through line at Palm and Herndon in Fresno, babies in the back seat, trying to make it to nap time and feeling like life with little ones would never give way to me accomplishing anything else. As I pulled up to the window to grab my coffee, I realized that my mind had wandered so far away, I hadn’t even ordered the cup of coffee when I had the chance. Thankfully, without a complicated order, the girl took pity on me and I got my coffee anyway. Yep, tired with little ones, especially once you have four and are worried because the last one isn’t quite showing the signs of development that were typical to the first three, is a special kind of tired. Physical tiredness is a given, but mental and emotional fatigue is so much harder to carry…and tougher to beat back with a cup of coffee.
Stories can be so simple but they build on each other to create such beauty in life. Tonight I sit on my new patio, a little Florida Georgia Line on my speaker and drinking my big jug of water as I write. My kids all went down to the water to swim, they don’t need me to watch them, but just a few doors down is a group of moms, kids driving battery powered cars, moms with glasses of red wine in hand, just braving the witching hour together as the inevitable fighting and tears come like they always do this time of day…community in one of its greatest forms. I was just one of them, practically yesterday, and those moms who got me through those days, where 4pm to 8pm felt longer than the other 20 hours, still bring tears to my eyes. When I was in it, it was both amazing and hard. When I was in it, I could never imagine a day that didn’t look like sippy cups (with ice), car seats that were probably not tethered properly, and where’s your shoes, (ok, we still have trouble with that one). When I was in it, there was never a thought of being able to do anything else but handle their growth, which actually wasn’t true, I just didn’t realize the full extent of what I was carrying back then. And then it was over.
Don’t get me wrong, I have an 11 year old that challenges me every day in the ways of maximizing development, and teenagers who aren’t even close to done being guided along this path of life, but it’s just different. With little ones, their development is simple but critical. As an intutive, I’m not a fan of the use of control, but those hard and fast rules in the early years, give way to a beautiful, trusting relationship as the years go on. The grind you put in and the boundaries you set the first five years are the backbone for what lies ahead. To use another "yogi -ism",
"strong spine strong mind."
As my crew came back from the water, I saw some of this beautiful independence earned through those early years of boundaries shining through. My new home filled with teenagers, trying to shock me as they decided which “Cards of Humanity” they could show me and which ones they shouldn’t. It’s ok, be shocked, I’ve never played the game, and not planning on it…it’s not my brand of humor. But, as they baked cookies, played the piano and learned to play with yoyo’s they had ordered on Amazon, that intuition I was speaking of kicked in and told me that we are all going to be ok, at least for tonight. And these days, that is the best feeling I ever have.
The more I write, the more my brain connects with the universal truths that bring together this incredible human experiment. In less than one weeks time, I have been able to share significant experiences with people that I vibe with that span every decade of life. I’m feeling grateful today for the opportunity I have to go from the Six Man in Manhattan Beach to happy hour with a centenarian in just a few days time. I talk a lot about the care I take and satisfaction I find raising my kids, who span just a seven year age range from 18 to 11, but today I’m thinking about what makes life great in the decades after we become independent adults, and how what we learn and pass on forms the generations that come after us.
Tonight I had the privilege to be invited to “happy hour” with an incredible 100 year old man, Jack. I’ve written about Jack and his wife before…six kids and 24 grandkids, a generational family business, and so much in common with the way I was raised, and the history that connects us and forms the people that we are.
For a little backstory on Jack click here:
https://theoptimistsjournal.com/blog-2/2018/8/8/a-centenarians-happy-hour
It’s amazing to take in the energy, flair and competence that goes into an almost 70 year marriage and the stories that go along with it. Their vibrance at 100 and 90 respectively has such an effect on my outlook, as I sit at 43, afraid that I have so much left to learn and do, and not enough life left to accomplish it. They have the ability to take life at a pace that is both awe inspiring for people their age, and yet so comfortable that I felt at home letting them be the hosts, never feeling like my presence was a burden…what a blessing to be a part of.
This morning I sit, finding clarity in the attributes and mindsets that connect the human spirit across these generations that I am fortunate to have in my life. People who help shape me into the person that I am…one that can navigate the 405, while listening to George Strait, talk California history with the greats and analyze both my potential and my missteps and how to evolve. I am so grateful for the people in my life that help me find peace with my past, enjoyment in the present, and hope for the future. As I like to do, boiling these truths down into simple words, today I am paying attention to the attributes that create driven contentment in this crazy world.
Observance - Greatness seems to be born first in the ability to observe others. The people I am most drawn to are not usually the loudest in the room, they are actually the ones who, although not afraid to contribute, often sit back, take things in, and quietly learn from human behavior. From that place we develop a keen understanding of when to act but also how to improve ourselves. What we learn from observance of others, not always having to be the one at the forefront with our own story, and acknowledging that there is both time to learn and teach, is a hallmark of success over generations and time.
Passion - Beginning with advice from my dad and progressing to my observance of human condition over my life, the presence of passion is critical to a life well lived. We are all capable of finding what makes us excited to get up in the morning, but that doesn’t mean that we all do. Our passions can evolve and change over a lifetime, but without one, life is shorter, smaller and offers less to the world than what we were meant for. We only get one go around, and the greats use their passion to define their purpose and inspire others to do the same.
Routine - I am so grateful that I have a personality that finds satisfaction in routine. Routine creates consistency in small things over time that build to great success. Routine is inspiring to me because, so often today, we are looking for big results from lesser amounts of discipline and action. Instant gratification, born of the thousands of choices that are readily available to us at the drop of a hat, does not lend itself to the type of long standing success that comes from good habits. Routine itself is not something that is acknowledged or gratified in the moment, but as time goes on, the rise to greatness is always grounded in consistency. From the athletes I observe honing their craft in the South Bay to the 100 year old who’s answer last night to the question “What are you going to do tomorrow?” was “the same thing I did today”, routine is an integral part of creating and sustaining greatness in every season of life.
Relationships - Over time, relationships are perhaps the most important marker of a life well lived. Caring for people, forming authentic connections, understanding a perspective that is different than our own and allowing it to have an effect on us, is something that requires a lot of intimacy and sacrifice. So often, our defense mechanisms and egos will push us away from developing these types of deep relationships, but the greats, over time, seem to know the meaning of this connection.
The level of care that I observed in the room last night, both spoken and unspoken, (at what will now be called “The Centenarian’s Happy Hour”) is something that I strive to emulate in my life and also look to have returned. When relationships have mutual benefit, human potential that was good before becomes great.
Memories - The longevity of memory, and how we keep those memories alive, was something that really struck me throughout the conversation last night. To listen to people who can speak firsthand of huge stories like the day Martin Luther King was assassinated to the personal and vivid stories of raising children who are older than me, inspires me to keep my brain vibrant and alive. People who connect to their past and can learn from the perspective it provides, lead rich lives and offer so much to younger generations, if we take the time to listen. Part of what I hope to achieve through my writing, which was reinforced by my friends last night, is the importance of telling our stories. In doing this, we teach younger generations the great connections we all share, why we attract what we do and how we are meant to live in community, strengthening each other.
As I finish my thoughts, that have been dancing in my head since I got home last night, taking in the scene at Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz, where Matthew is having the surf lesson he has been asking for the last year, my two middle kids kayaking with the their closest childhood friends, and my oldest, who held the crew together until I could get here to enjoy, is independent enough to return home on her own, I realize that the brief few days we have had to spend together, without agenda or hectic life schedule, has been marked by all these qualities. Observance of greatness, passion for our active lifestyle and simple routine (thanks for the pancakes and bacon as always Sarah!), relationships span 20+ years and mean so much, and memories that we will carry with us forever, I am again overwhelmed with gratitude for the life and opportunities that lay before me…and hoping that I get the opportunity to host a Centenarian’s Happy Hour someday.
As an introvert who craves deep connection, I find myself thinking about the concept of community a lot. So often, I feel like retreating to my corner to write and think and be by myself, and then I get this crazy pull to get out there and connect and learn from other people. I am always after what makes people tick and can’t handle much small talk. Instead of saying “how are you?” or “nice to meet you” I quickly want to get to the questions like “what gives you hope?” “what makes you smile?” or even “what breaks your heart?”. Most of the time though, I think these questions would send people running for the hills and I’m never one to put people in an awkward position on purpose.
Wherever I have lived for the past 25 years, I have had a community based on sport. Locker rooms, pools, gyms, neighborhood running partners and, now that I have lived in the South Bay for the last five years, the beach, is where I find these connections with people who find passion and purpose in similar ways. No matter what life has presented me, whether it was homesickness in college, the challenges of raising little kids, marital strife or divorce, these settings have provided me people to connect with with like mindsets. These are the places where I feel most understood. Locker room talk has always provided me with the most wisdom and clarity. I attribute that mostly to the endorphins and the presence of like minds.
This weekend in Manhattan Beach, the Charlie Saikley 6 Man Volleyball Tournament is being played. It’s a fantastic time complete with costumes, music, high level volleyball and, above all, generations of people who have bonded over a sport that they love. For the past 8 years, I have been able to be a part of it, and it leaves my heart full of gratitude every year. The funny part is, every year, before the start of the tournament, I think, I don’t want to do this. It’s too many people, I have too much to do, I’m not one for costumes…I can come up with a million reasons in my head about why I shouldn’t be down there. And then I go anyway…and play a game I love, (even though it was a little rough this year, 8 weeks post knee surgery) and experience the kind of conversations that I crave, with people that I don’t know as well, or that I wouldn’t have otherwise seen, all while we take in the beautiful scene of the MB Pier on a perfect day or the sunset and the fun night that follows. I come away with the deepest sense of connection with people that, when I moved here, spent a lot of time telling myself I would have little in common.
What comes out in these conversations is my realization that we all have a lot more in common than we think. We all have things that break our hearts, that we struggle with daily, and present us with challenges that on the surface we would rather not face. I have learned though, that the key is not to avoid the struggle, but to embrace it, and find the days, the conversations and the relationships that bolster us through the inevitable struggles that are part of each of our journeys. It’s up to us to find that place, that perfect day, that deep conversation and connection, even when we think we don’t have time for it. When we get to, soak it in for all it has to offer, be real and enjoy it. It’s food for the journey, it’s the memories made that carry us when the tough stuff comes to pass. Thanks 6 Man for being that day for me. Can’t wait to be back next year.
