‘To be or not to be . . . the Groundhog'

Two amazing fellow bloggers have recently posted entries that mentioned February and it’s character leader, the Groundhog. One even went as far as to add a definition for the groundhog and you all know how I love those definitions. I’ll have to be honest, up until I saw this entry, the only times I fondly thought about that little guy was in remembering that I had many friends who worked on the making of that movie “Groundhog Day” including a friend who is actually in one of the scenes. And more fondly still was when my first son was about 2- 2 ½ years old and on the way to his grandmother’s house we saw a groundhog. Try as he might to say the name of that animal, it would always come out as “hound-grog” – had me in tears then . . . still gets me going when I think of it today.

Anyway, I was looking at that definition again . . .

From Wikipedia:
"Groundhog Day or Groundhog's Day is a holiday celebrated United States and Canada on February 2nd. In weather lore, if a ground hog, also known as a woodchuck, marmot or ground squirrel, emerges from its burrow on this day and fails to see its shadow because the weather is cloudy, winter will soon end. If the groundhog sees its shadow, it will return into its burrow, and the winter will continue for 6 more weeks."

. . . and something hit me.

If you’ll notice – it’s never the people that scare the groundhog . . . it’s the shadow of himself that does him in.

We are oftentimes very much like the groundhog in so many ways. We get spooked by our own shadow – the demons we allow ourselves to hold on to – those vices that we all know we have. We allow them to take up residence within us and even on our supposed best days, they sneak up on us and scare the hell out of us, making us scamper back into our protective holes ultimately giving authority to the unending dreariness of our heart’s winter.

Oh to be the groundhog who alludes his oppressive shadow. Oh to give way to the birth of new things as we allow Spring to grace our hearts in a more timely manner.

Any good farmer knows that the only thing a hole is good for is for planting seeds of hope.

Hope for a good harvest.

Hope for what is still to come.

Here’s to climbing out of that hole and looking the other way . . .

' Just a little Taste . . . '

Energy drinks . . . they’re everywhere now. My kids have friends who pound these things through the day. Did you catch that part – my kids . . . have friends who . . . These are mere teens (pre-teens actually) who feel they NEED these things to get through the day. Amazing.

Now before I begin this rant – for that is what this part will definitely be – I will admit to my own vices – I have a few that I cannot seem to shake – habits that I had started long ago that while I say that I am working on finding ways to break them, I obviously don’t WANT to give them up just yet (another insight all together). So, without wanting to give the impression of thinking that I am holier than thou – I get it – things are hard to shake.

What concerns me are the ever-increasing growing trends with these supplements. Ours is a society that spends tons of money on ways to make our lives EASY . . . then spends the remaining money on ways to ward off the effects of BEING lazy. Seriously – if you sit long enough for the commercial breaks – you will see the one ad for the robot vacuum (because WHY SHOULD YOU have to clean your home?) and then several following ads on weight control items and work-out equipment. Because our society has put themselves in such a state with horrible eating and excercise habits MANY feel as if they cannot make it through the day WITHOUT added boost. Mere CHILDREN now feel they cannot do the same and they are getting hooked on these drinks which are not good in large doses.

Do we really NOT SEE the stupidity in all this? But I digress . . . the whole point of this entry was to share how EASY it is to fall into a trap.

My son has literally been HOUNDING me, to just TRY some. There’s something I wanted to say about him at this point – that even though I know he is not perfect and will probably try other things, I was pretty impressed that he listened for the most part on this one. We went round and round one day on WHY I didn’t want him to even TRY IT.

His argument for trying – ‘But if you let me just try it, I will know and not want it anymore’.

My argument for NOT trying it – ‘But when you TASTE it – you will know what all the fuss is about and will WANT more because it’s harder to SAY NO to yourself once you’ve tried it.

When we rounded this discussion for the 20th time, I finally said – why do you think the message for not using drugs is JUST SAY NO? He said – ‘but that’s different because DRUGS are bad for you’. I said – yes but so is THIS – it’s just accepted by the public as NOT BEING BAD.

Hmmmmmmmmmm . . . . when you break something down, you know?

How many things in our life do we KNOW to be ‘NOT GOOD’ but yet we open that door – just a little . . . just a taste . . . . I can stop. I have grown to recognize what my vices are and have to honestly admit that I still allow for times when I just want to be weak. I can also admit that I know there are reasons why I shouldn’t even start and have gotten much better at recognizing what I shouldn’t even TASTE, as I recognize it to be something I know I would want to continue. Progress is a good thing.

Regarding the energy drinks with my kid – we ended by doing an experiment. I pulled into a convenient store lot and allowed my son to run in and buy one of those cans – I could see that he was just too bent on trying and wanted him to be under my supervision to discuss things. This was the progression of his experience:

Initial reaction - one of excitement: “I can?!? “
Then – doubt: “Are you sure – I won’t if you really don’t want me to”
(He returned after making the purchase but hesitates)
Reaction from purchase - Observant: “wow – this small can cost $$$$$”
Hesitation again as he cracked the can open and smells it.
Reaction - one of realization: “ wow, it smells good“
Hesitation as he sips . . .
Reaction - again one of realization: “it actually tastes good, Mom . . . “
Decision: “ I don’t really want anymore . . . “
A few minutes goes buy . . .
NEW DECISION – with another sip: ‘ It does taste good, though . . . ‘
Contemplations as he put his eyes down – almost like he didn’t want to look at me.

I asked him a few questions:

How many of these cans did you say your friend drinks during the day? (shocking answer)
How much money do you think he spends daily? (shocking answer)
How is his energy level after a few hours? (he is the most tired of all his friends)

My son realized that what appeared to be a great thing is actually the beginning of many future problems. He realized that the experience was not as grand as he had imagined it to be. And finally, he now realizes what he has to say NO to – which will be harder.

Oddly enough – the flavor that he tried . . . GREEN APPLE.

Know your limits . . .

‘ T R Y as you might . . . '

I believe to understand what someone is saying, one needs to remember the character of the one using the word. Truth often comes out when one speaks . . . it’s just a matter of HEARING what they are really saying.

Shortly after the breakup of my marriage, I was on a mad search to figure out what exactly went wrong. I went over many of the conversations leading up to the final decisions and I began to look into the definitions of specific words. What I started was a process I have dubbed as ‘definition surfing’ where one definition leads to further seeking of another descriptive word and so forth (true word digging, if you will). What surprised me most was that most words have MANY definitions listed – many different from my own understanding of that word . . . had I just taken a minute to see this then, perhaps I would have understood better where the mind-frame was as the time.

We often grow up understanding the meaning of something based on the definitions given to us by our parents and other influential people in our life. Most times we never take the time to look up what each word means. Because of this, we often USE words based solely on our limited understanding of them. Again, I was shocked to see the OTHER definitions of some of the key words. I could go on about this understanding alone and how it is SO critical to have a FULL understanding of things in order to effectively communicate. What I have found with the use of some words is that what often BEGINS as a positive often ends up as a negative as the chosen word becomes a veiled excuse for some.

When I was growing up, there were two words I was not allowed to use in my home: CAN’T and TRY. I definitely could not used the word Can’t and I could ONLY use the word Try if it meant that I was trying something NEW for the first time. I clearly understood the reasons behind the first but I struggled to understand the latter. After all, we are always taught to at least TRY our best in all efforts.

Later, I came across TWO others who preached adamantly against that word as they claimed it was a COP-OUT for actually ‘DOING’. In fact, one had even gone on to say that it was a very deceiving word for one who didn’t want to really DO at all. Sadly enough, in recent years - all three of those people – who so passionate preached against it, now use this word the most. All three people, who have been beacons to me over the years, now make me take great pause as I am forever disappointed by their undelivered promises . . . newly developed character traits . . .

Since the weather has all but blown, I decided to take a few and go surfing – a revisit to that word that is used most often in today’s language.

TRY - to attempt to do or accomplish.
ATTEMPT - to make an effort at
EFFORT – 1) The use of physical or mental energy to do something; exertion.
2) A difficult exertion of the strength or will.
3) A usually earnest attempt

What amuses me most about VIEWING it in this manner is that if you trail the definitions, the last one I listed actually lists a great truth (usually) – what may begin as an earnest attempt . . . starts to slide as one begins to realize the mental and physical energies that have to be spent in that effort.

Another truth - not one definition states an actual achieved accomplishment – only an attempt.

So, to the three in my life – please, do not even bother ‘trying’ . . . cuz I already know you will not . . . newly developed character traits and all . . .

Keep digging . . .

'Finding the WIN in the small Print'

It’s amazing what most view as a WIN. My son’s team, try as they might, forever seem to end in a losing final score. However, they have played several amazing games. I have watched as this team has developed in their skills over the weeks and have gone from awkward and unfamiliar to athletic and team-aware. I find agreement with that old adage, ‘it’s not the score that counts but how you play the game. They play their hearts out most of the time.

Today was like that for me . . . but rather than ON the court – it was another day IN court. Acting as Pro Se (the on-going battling of my Ex and the subordination of my previous lawyer have all but rendered me lawyer-free), I was shown favor from the Judge on a critical matter as he made his ruling in my favor – a true blessing, an answer to many long prayers. But this ruling was veiled in additional legal banter, tossed out petitions and stern warnings for potential future issues. What should have been a fairly festive ride home for me turned into more of a somber one. I was trying to make heads and tails of the wrap up discussions, what my future play was to be with these tossed out petitions and how very odd it was to NOT have a pending court date. Pavlov’s response dies hard when the stimulant is suddenly taken away.

The reason I was feeling so heavy was because today was OPPOSITE of what I normally experience. Comparing it to what I am trying to teach my son about his games, for the first time, I left court feeling like even though I got the overall WIN – I didn’t necessarily play the game all that well. I left feeling like that legal world kicked my butt and I am but a very small fish in a very large legal tank. I felt like what normally should have been a BREEZE as the attacks from my Ex are so unwarranted, MERE legal WORDS can break even the best of us. There was a critical point in today’s proceedings where I felt my foot slip and I realized how critical lawyers are to staying a float in the courts – one can have all the proof and truth behind them but if one cannot LEGALLY present this, it can fall through the cracks.

So, after all was said and done, I sat quietly – for a time. The more I thought and prayed on it, the more I began to recognize some things.

I began to look at the attitudes of the judge and the opposing lawyer today. The judge pointed out several things to me - particularly with an area of MY mis-filed petitions (I just don’t have time to go to law school right now). While he said, “I cannot give legal guidance on how to properly file these papers . . . “ he actually repeated the area where I made my mistake (to which I diligently made note). He went on to comment about potential future attacks from my Ex (almost as if to say, “Head’s up – patterns have been as such so PREPARE for this”) perhaps it’s only wishful thinking on my part and this was not really what he was doing, but trust me when I say that I have been in his courtroom long enough to watch his character . . . (he was the one that granted me leave in the last proceeding to FILE one of the petitions – something he spelled out that I had not thought to do).

Additionally, the lawyer seems to have a different attitude, normally very cold and curt with me, he was rather cordial today. As with every appearance, an order must be written up on what transpired. While he recorded that the Judge ordered the petitions to be stricken, he made his last entry a cordial one reminding me of the option to refill those petitions if I so choose to do. Again - trust me, his writing is not normally this nice or informative.

While I pray that this is truly the end of a very long battle – I’ll take the peace while it is here and opt to not re-file my petitions at this time. I choose to END my funk by realizing that I really did have a WIN-WIN with this one. I may have left feeling as if I made a few technical fouls, but I played as well as I could – with all I had. I got the favored ruling, I got a little direction from two unlikely sources and I got overall PEACE . . . for the first time in a long time.

Until next time . . .

‘Unlikely Heroes’

We hear so many stories of heroes - men and woman who serve in the armed forces, men and woman who are on the line daily on fire departments, police, hospitals and the civilians who steps up to the plate when called . . . all worthy of our recognition, all worthy of our on-going support. Trust me when I say this because I know a few and they stand above the crowd in most cases.

But there is another group of people, a more ‘unlikely hero’ who, most likely will never receive the recognition many feel should be made when acts of unselfishness are so very clearly expressed. See, that’s how I define ‘heroic’ – a random act of unselfishness.

Recently, I spent the morning with a woman who I most definitely consider a hero . . . would even call her a true ‘Saint’ but a good many have no concept of what that title really means so I will steer clear of that one for now and set it aside for another time. This woman – a friend of mine, has recently taken a leave of absence from employment to live with and tend to her niece who was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer – I will spare the details as it is not my story to share – and will only tell you that her care is greatly needed as there is a husband working hard to manage his job so that he can care for his wife and 4 younger children, the youngest who is only 18 months.

As my friend graciously stepped into the role of care-giver to her niece, she took one giant step into that of a part-time mother, chef, house cleaner, family event coordinator and spiritual guide and counselor to the extended family who is also reeling from the reality of this diagnosis. This friend walks humbly – and carries herself in a manner worthy of the call as she presents herself fresh and beautiful to those on the outside of this intimate story. That is to say, one would never know by her outward appearance that she has taken on these additional tasks as she has made sure that it about the task at hand and NOT the heroic efforts on her part.

So, to my friend and to the many who walk in such a manner, while I believe we are all called to be heroes – unlikely heroes, that is, your lead is exemplary and I hope that I can live a life as worthy as you have made yours.

Be a hero today . . .

‘Stopping the Clock”

At one of my oldest son’s basketball games, my youngest son had asked how long we had until the buzzer went off. I tried to explain that while each period was divided into 7 minutes, those 7 minutes could actually take 20-30 minutes (if not more) to run out as the clock had to be stopped so often for various obstructions.

Today, my kids were all asking me to do things with them when I told them that I needed another 15 minutes to finish something I had started earlier that morning hoping to have had finished before they even woke but had been interrupted. About 30 minutes into it, they said the proverbial, “Mom, you said . . . “ referring to the ‘ONLY 15 MINUTES’ part. I turned table and referenced that 7 minutes in a game thing and said that DUE to the constant interruptions – especially those that were due to actual ‘FOULS’ made on each other that very morning – that my 15 minutes had gotten stretched . . . and very much in the manner of a real game . . . I would indeed be using up all my clock time. They didn’t necessarily like this stance, but they couldn’t very well argue. Oddly enough, the remaining minutes worked out to be close to real time.

This started that dig as I wondered more about all the times we must stop the clock because of our actions.

I believe that everyone has an ordained plan. That these plans are set in motion as we come into this world, and that we often knock ourself off these plans due to the many decisions we make along the way. Until now, while I often think of the clock . . . I never really considered the buzzer – but isn’t that what everything always boils down to in the end . . . TIME REMAINING???

I imagined MY many choices – completely stupid, some of them as I had been quite the hot-head growing up – that must have caused many a clock to stop as God blew a whistle on my many fouls. At times, I feel He must have whistled me right out of the game as I reached my 5-foul limit within the first few minutes of a new endeavor. And just like the players are hopefully taught, tough call or not, one is not supposed to argue the call least he be thrown out for un-sportsmanship. Usually the one penalty is followed by another personal one as the player now has to answer to the coach for getting tossed out.

I began to wonder even further – just how many minutes I have added to my ongoing journey to finding the Promise Land? The desert walk becomes so very long at times.

Not one to cry over spilled milk, I continue to move forward with hopefully greater understanding of how the game is really to be played. I work diligently on understanding the rules and practice often to hone my skills. I think again to the game as I realize that those last few seconds are usually the most exciting as it is not so much what is going on IN the game but rather what will be recorded AFTER that buzzer goes off.

Until next time . . .

‘Hanging from a Tree . . . ’

Legal jargon gone awry . . . there’s a reason why lawyers have to go to school for so long, the legal language along makes one’s head spin.

I am growing weary as my re-enlistment into a personal legal battle forever seems to be at the hands of this now foreign enemy. Sad how domestic battles seem to mare the face of a once secured ally, for I do not even recognize this man I was once very intimate with. But, like all things in recent years, I resolve to accept it as a part of my pre-ordained plan as it seems to have primed me for the many things that come my way these days. Perhaps it prepares me more for way down the unforeseen road of my life (“wax on, wax off,” says Mr. Miyagi – a blog in and of itself for another time). But truly, truly I can say each day, ‘I am still blessed’ as I seem to find enlightenment from every rock over-turned. I find that I have these ‘Whoa’ moments that a few select have actually found humor in simply observing the contortion of my face when the ‘lil light bulb goes off . . . well-earned wrinkle makers, that’s what those are. I’m sure I would have earned a whopping ‘10’ with this next one.

Knee-deep in paperwork and a trail of communications, I was trying to deliver a counter response to an on-going recent battle over misunderstood holiday visitations – namely Christmas time – different from the rest as it encompasses a two-week span. Due to the individual school district dismissals, there was – once again a disagreement on the interpretation of the split time: If we based it on the actual observed holidays and the actual days the district dismissed, the split time would not make sense. My stance: since we have to follow the district holiday break, we overlook the actual observed holidays and just celebrate in the even split – that way each parent would get equal time. This was not agreed upon and it was pointed out that we must follow the agreement to the letter of the written word. In my argument, I pointed out that the orders were to be used as a guiding post – to be used only if there was complete disagreement among the parties but even then to be used with interpretation. It was in the best interest of the children for both parties to work amicably together with any arrangements. This was not well received, so I hunkered down a bit more stating that if we tried to follow this agreement to the exact letter of the law, we would ALWAYS get hung up on things like this. That it would, in fact ‘screw us’ as we would always run into times where circumstances would continually change – we needed to focus on the principals of the agreement – the key points of the agreement – in essence the promises of the agreement if we were to . . . . .

“ W H O A . . . . “ (yeah, good thing I was typing an email . . . this was where my face did that funny contorting thing) I went on . . . . we needed to remember the agreements were based on promises or principle ORDERS not the actual words that made up the order because over time, the nuances of our daily routines will change but the REASON for the order will NOT. I shared that I was not trying to destroy the order . . . but merely uphold it as it applied to the current situation . . . I was doing this because I loved my children and I wanted them to have equal time with each parent as they felt they needed.

Unfortunately he does not agree with the interpretation for he does not want to understand . . . I am sorry for him on this account. But I do understand and all the more BECAUSE of this burden, so all is not lost. And it will always be for reasons such as this that I regain strength again and it all becomes worth it.

When you are digging, don’t forget to look under the rocks that seem to hit you in the head . . . because they’re meant to be a direct hit, they are usually quite painful and unfortunately the most overlooked.

‘Christ redeemed us from the curse of the Law, having become a curse for us – for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree” . . . ‘ ~ Galatians 3:13

‘ Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish, but to fulfill.” ~ Matthew 5:17

‘SNOWPLOWEN’

Wow, we’ve really taken quite a hit by the snow this winter . . . it feels as if it’s never going to stop. At least that’s what I imagine to be on the minds of the poor soles that have to plow. The radio station I listen to took a poll the other morning on the longest hours out on service. Some men called in claiming over 72 hours straight with no sleep. At first thought, that was alarming – to think that these guys are putting themselves and others at risk just to clear the roads for us. Then another thought hit me:

While we are all going about our day, do we ever stop long enough to realize the little services that help us get through the day? We run at such a fast pace, many of us paying NO attention – until that is - the services STOP. And boy, you can bet we’re the first to notice then . . . and probably yet, the first to complain.

Just like the company I work for, “Waste Management”, many come in and out of our life to merely CLEAN UP or MANAGE a mess so that we can CONTINUE in a manner we’re accustomed to. We go through our whole life having others CLEAR paths for us – some paths that have been filled by debris not of our own doing and some that have been filled by our own doings. Never once do we stop to take notice let alone ASSIT with the clearing. So again, it made me think, “What can WE DO to make the system work a little better for everyone?”

First, RECOGNIZE that we are but a mere PIECE of a much bigger puzzle and there are MANY who play a part in creating the ability to go about our day. Recognize the importance of the service – period. Without these men and women working all hours, in the freezing cold to clear these roads, we would not make it home let alone to work. Recognize that our need to be on the roads actually makes it HARDER for them to do their jobs and limit your travel time – besides, it’s just safer practices. Have patience as we follow – never too close and don’t try to pass as they have a heavy load to maneuver. If one pulls into the station next to you, buy them a cup of coffee and say thanks.

This recognition should not stop there – to the fireman, the medics, the police, the utility man and women, the garbage/recycle haulers and yes, your postal carriers. Our life is made so much easier by all they do and if I have failed to mention anyone, my apologies to you all. Our hats come off to you . . . have a warm day.

‘Comfort Stations”

There’s a gas station about midway between my home and my new place of employment where I stop to get a cup of coffee every morning. I stumbled upon it one morning when I was trying yet another route in to work. It’s a rather busy place, larger than I usually prefer (I have grown to enjoy the small-town stops along the way) but the minute I stepped in I realized WHY it was so busy every morning. While it was quite the one-stop shop, complete with its own mail drop and UPS service right outside, there’s a familiarity that hits you the minute you enter the door. Marie is the guilty one for that. An elderly woman – quite spry for her age – she tends to the coffee stations for about three or fours hours in the morning and then she goes home. She humbly says, “that’s all I do – I JUST do the coffee . . . “ I wonder if she even realizes that she’s the reason the coffee tastes so good . . . that she’s that one ingredient that the other places don’t have. I wonder if she realizes that in this very short time, I have grown to depend on her to start my day.

There are people in my life who are a lot like this gas station – a lot like Marie. Throughout my life I have gathered a few very dear friends to me and I find that I need to stop in and re-fuel when the ‘ol tank is low, when I need a warm drink because it’s a bit cold on the outside or just when I need to clean my windshield from all the tear-drenched streaks.

Comfort Stations are always dependable, always well stocked and always within my price-range. They are available to others but always make me feel as it they've opened JUST for me. I could travel many roads and still know that when I cross that particular intersection, I am welcomed to stop in, at a moments notice, as if no time had gone by.

Many a good station has been discovered from driving on the roads less traveled. I have discovered that I’m a back-roads kind of gal by nature. While the big city lights with it’s cultural coffee stations add some fun to my days and nights of curiosity, my heart always brings me back to these special stations . . . because nothing seems to compare.

Enjoy your morning cup of coffee . . . I'll always drive a little extra to make sure I do.

P.S. ~ If you are ever in the area (Spring Grove, IL) stop in to the Citgo Station on the corner of Route 12 & Spring Grove Road. Rob, Cindy and Woody all play their part in this great package deal. Thanks guys for helping to keep us warm on these cold, cold days.

‘Whittling away at the Good Stuff”

Have you ever watched a whittler at work?

The artist - Creator - if you will, begins with a vision, a raw piece of wood and choice carving tools. An experienced Whittler knows His wood. He knows from the beginning the perfect END application that is best for each individual piece of wood. Slow and steady strokes are made – precision scoring for He knows how to apply the right amount of pressure at just the right time. He knows what to remove . . . He know just what to keep. This process can be long and even arduous depending on the chosen material - the harder the wood - the harder the work . . . but eventually . . . from an otherwise ordinary or even less than average piece of wood, a beautiful image begins to take shape. If you’ve ever watched a whittler at work, you’ll know that while the work takes a long time, the image that eventually takes shape is breathtaking when it is complete . . . and well worth the wait.

Now, if you’ve ever stood long enough in a crowd watching these amazing artists, there is always one in the crowd (possibly even yourself) who assumes that the whittling endeavors are quite easy and proceeds to pridefully take control of a carving tool and try his hand. The unskilled carver often chisels away at the good along with the scrap, damaging the work of art in the process. Such is often the case as we take control over our lives. Impatiently, we often grab at the carving tools and begin to shape our ‘self’ – in the image WE believe we should be.

I believe that a person is only as good as his/her good name.

All too often, the good work that is being done on us – IN us is often compromised by the work of our own hands. One, who’s walking in the good carves a little slice away as he/she rages out at another – slices even more away as he/she delights in another’s fall – slices away still yet when he/she compromises the Order and Rules set before us in order to get just a little farther in life.

A good Whittler knows - it’s usually the tiniest of nicks that causes the greatest change in the overall appearance of the final piece.

As I have grown, I have been blessed with many artistic talents . . . but even today, I’ve never been great with a carving tool. My precision is not sound – my timing is often all wrong and I often don’t realize my own strength – using too much force when I’m to be softer in nature.

Looks like I’ll be leaving that job up to the professional . . . so in the meantime, I’ll just keep digging.