Stop Time

This is a picture of me and my kiddos...

It was taken at a bike parade this Fourth of July.  I am 40.  Sam is 10.  Kate is 7...within inches of turning 8 and Claire is 4.5.

Today at the pool, I ran into an old friend from high school.  I was trying to corral my brood between the indoor and the outdoor water slide pools and she grabbed me..."Kelly...I don't know what's happened to Sam but he's grown.  He's so tall and such a handsome kid."

My heart sort of stopped because to me on any given day, he's just my kid.  But then, I look at pictures like the one above and realize...he's literally up to my shoulders.  How dear God did that happen?  He's only 10 years old.

Juxtapose this pic to the one below of me and my siblings.  It's not the best of us.  We'd all been pushing our kids on bikes at the Bike Parade in the midst of humid ass July weather and they were forced against their will to take the traditional pose against my mom's kitchen wall mural.

You know which one I am...Michael is my younger brother by 4 years.  Christina...the red head on the right is my younger sister by 12 years and my baby sister April on the left is younger by 13.

They all have kiddos of their own and really fantastic lives.  But not long ago, I was fighting like crazy with Mike.  I used to beat the shit out of him until he turned 12 and then he returned the favor by pinning me down and spitting on me just exactly when no parent was looking.  I practically helped raise my sisters...changed their diapers, helped them to brush their teeth, read to them and now, I look at them as grown women raising their own littles and I think...please, stop time.

It struck me at the pool that I often live my life in the following fashion...I look at all of the things I have going on and pace myself by saying...everything will be better after I get through this meeting or presentation or project or family event or fill in the blank.  I let myself celebrate for 2.5 seconds and then I'm off to the races on to the next item to check off the list.

Somewhere in the mix, life happens and people grow up and time keeps ticking and memories are either made and savored or, they're not pardoned by the busy hectic freneticness of life.

And so, when my friend said that Sam was so tall and handsome, I thought, I must enjoy this journey.  One day, he'll be like my brother with his own family and responsibilities.  For now, I'll plan to stop and look him in the eye when he's telling me about the latest chapter of a book or a movie that's coming out that he wants to see.  I'll engage him and ask questions...without trying to hurry through it because I'm constantly multi-tasking.

I'll remind myself that

swimming deeply in the waters of all of it is so much more rewarding than simply treading.  Because time goes on no matter...even when we're desperate for it to slow down and let us savor the moments.

The Unfolding of a Character

You stayin warm?...

I know, right...I'm dyin on the vine out here. Everythings one ginormous, fuckin icicle.

It was gettin old and needed new tires, but I never imagined it would break down when it's two degrees outside.  When is this bus gonna get here?

That blows. Where you headed?

To my mom's.  She needs help with her groceries and other stuff around her apartment. You?

Shit. Work...where else would I be goin at 7 in the morning?  

Bus pulls up.  Julia and Dylan get on.

My friend and I were lamenting about how hard it is to convey dialogue in a short story format.  You want the reader to feel what it feels like to be a middle-aged, single mother down on her luck sandwiched in between her two dependent kiddos while also managing the needs of her ailing, elderly mother.  And, a brilliant, punk ass kid in his early 20's who can't quite get it together, resolute on rebelling against the system but trapped by it all the same.

Without a messenger, the only thing you have is words and unfortunately, so much of the meat in dialogue happens in the non-verbal...the ways that we look at each other or look away or touch the other or want to, but don't.

And so, as Anne LaMott teaches, you try to get under the skin of the character and inhabit it, so that you can clear as a pin point articulate what they would and would not do.  The tough part is when you you're not a single mother or a punk kid in his early 20's.

So, you just keep at it...banging it out, erasing, rewriting, rereading, reimagining if the whole thing is plausible and if it's not, can you suspend the reader's disbelief long enough to entice them to come on the journey?

Yesterday, after school, while getting Kate (7) ready for ballet, she asked me what I do at my computer.  I told her that I'm usually doing one of three things: writing, paying bills, or listening to music or all three.  And then she said, what do you do when we're at school?  To which I responded, that list is much longer.  And then she said, what did you do before we were here?  And I said, you mean before you were born? Nodding her head yes, I replied, I can hardly remember.

And it's true.  Just as I'm inventing characters for stories, I feel like I'm constantly reinventing me.  It's the nature of the story, the journey, the unfolding of the life.  And much as I'm completely oblivious to where the story line will go with Julia and Dylan, I'm equally as unsure about myself.

The good news for both are that the possibilities are limitless.

To Sorrow is To Live

I don't know where you live, but here in the midwest, the weather is stunning.

The leaves are turning extraordinary shades of abundant red, orange and yellow.  The temperature is mild and the sun, at least for the past several days has been shining.

So, on my way to the gas station and the grocery store this morning, I was smiling in gratitude. 

I needed to.  I'd been moping a bit.  Care taking for my two daughters who have been down for the count with the flu and now feeling badly that my husband has caught the bug. 

Just as I rounded the bend, out of the blue, a friend sent a text to tell me that she was grateful for the spirit of joy I bring to her life.  I was astounded and probably looked like a dip shit with big tears in my eyes at the gas pump.  We exchanged a few messages; one in which, I lamented about how sometimes life isn't fair and that certain things don't add up.

That's when she sent me this:

"Joyfully participate in the sorrow of living," Buddha.

And then, a moment later, this popped up in my in-box.

As I was throwing ingredients into the grocery cart to make chicken noodle soup, apple crisp and pumpkin muffins, I started throwing it around in my head.  It makes sense.  There are so many attachments, desires, cravings, fears that we walk around harboring.  Some of them will be actualized and some of them will not.

I suppose, our job is not to wallow in the parts of us that don't work out the way that we yearn, but rather to learn to live with the outcome, the season, the challenge, the trial with joy.

Essentially, to relish as best we can in the sorrow, the failure, the shortcoming, the hurt and to trust that it is temporary.


And maybe to be reminded that

Here's to friends and falling leaves and quiet moments of solitude that let us know we're not alone in our journey.

Cleaning the Closet in Quiet

Today was the first day that my two older children were in school all day long.

Sam started third grade and Kate started first grade...which left me alone with our precocious two-year old, Claire for an entire eight hours. 

While my inclination was to escape the mess that has become my home, the weather proved to be an obnoxious 95 degrees with a ridiculous amount of humidity and so, I resigned myself to remain indoors and clean.

I turned on some tunes and encouraged Claire to entertain herself with puzzles and books while I tackled cleaning my older children's closet and room.  Seven Goodwill and three trash bags later, I was astounded at what I had accomplished.

While I was cleaning, it dawned on me just how incredibly loud my life is....really on all fronts.  There is very little time afforded to contemplation.  There's mindlessness that emanates from exhaustion, but that's not the same thing as carving out space to think, ponder, reflect, dream, take it in.  And I don't know why cleaning a closet or really anything for that matter, helps me to zone in on my thoughts.

While I was gathering up old clothes, shoes, books, toys, nick knacks, and keep sakes, I realized that Sam and Kate are not the only ones embarking upon a new journey. 

I am too.  And, so is their very sweet little sister, Claire.

Next year, Claire will be in preschool which may mean three or five mornings a week, I will have no children at home...and then, what will become of me and my time.

My best girlfriend from undergrad predicts that I'll go back into the corporate world temporarily trading my running kicks for kick ass stilettos.  My husband predicts that I'll free lance my conflict resolution skills and mediate from home.  My close-knit girlfriends think I might volunteer more at the school or start a prostitution ring to continue paying for Catholic education.

All of these options sound interesting to me.  But whatever unfolds as I shared with my friend this morning, it won't be to the detriment of raising my kiddos or the passion of my soul.  I want to gain clarity about that piece and keep asserting it to the world so as not to lose its significance.

My hunch is that I have a lot more soul searching to do...which means a lot more closets to clean, spaces to declutter and times of solitude.

And this space of quiet, I am excited about.  I've been waiting for it, well, for a while.

Life is a Marathon to be Savored

It's been nine months since I've been dedicated to a regular running regimen.

And in that time, I've taken in countless pieces of advice.

Suggestions on running form, pace, training plans, nutrition, clothing, shoes...you name it...there's gazads of information out there.

But the other day, I saw a quote that stopped me in my tracks.  Simple.  Straight forward.  But also loaded, if you sink into it.

Life is a marathon and YOU are in it.

Many will concede that the running metaphor has many evident and cheese dick parallels to the journey that we're all on...living this unique life that we've been given.

But give it a second and think about it.

This is your life.  It's your race.  And when you take care of yourself physically, mentally and spiritually....you're able to endure.  You're not simply surviving, you're thriving and maybe, conquering some personal best records in your relationships, in your work, and in your space.

There are days, when you're exhausted.  Sick.  Tired.  Hurt.  Someone or something injured you.  You're pissed.  All that work for nothing.  Fuck that relationship.  Damn that job.  Screw that project.

But today, the hour turned, the sun came up, and by the grace of God, you were given the gift of anew.

Will you lace up your shoes, give it a go, make amends, hydrate, refuel, believe in yourself, trust in the future?  Or will you stew bogged down in defeat or simply surrender to the pain?

Because even on the days when we can't imagine getting up and trying again, we're in it.  Life is a marathon and we're here.

And everyone will tell you that to be successful in a race means to start slow, take in everything (the sights, the smells, the people, the experience), to have a plan for how you're going to cope when it gets hard, to create the story that you'll tell yourself (I am strong, powerful, capable) when you want to quit, and to put in the time, so that at the finish line, you fully experienced the journey.

I am grateful everyday for what running has taught me.  It's not easy.  But the lessons are true...they're beautifully hard and hopeful.  Here's to enjoying the marathon.

Thoughts from the Road

I should have known better.

Today was the first morning that I wasn't particularly anxious about my long run.  I was scheduled to run eight miles and thought, ain't nothin but a thang. 

Feeling self assured, I let myself sleep in and didn't head out until 8:00am, probably an hour and a half later than I should have.

Armed with a new playlist, my camelbak, some espresso energy GU, and a cocky attitude, I hit the road.

Three miles into the trek, I knew I was in for it.  I started getting really hot.  Sweat was pelting my eyes and my pace was rapidly slowing down.

Oh no.  This is not good.

At mile four, I took the gel and a huge drink of water and decided to surrender. 

The pain and the journey toward miles 5, 6, 7 and eventually 8 got me thinking...the moment that we begin to auto pilot anything in life and assume that we know more than it...is probably the point at which we are doomed. 

Because clearly we have lost respect for the task at hand.  We assume that we've mastered it and that we own it...when in life, nothing could be farther from the truth.  We are really never in control of our circumstances.  We assume a healthy surrendering and trust believing that goodness will outweigh evil and that fear and worry are simply barriers to the truth.

It's good to be a little anxious about the journey.  It certainly makes the fruits of our labor sweeter and more hard fought.  And in the end, we learn not to take them for granted and to recognize that accomplishing a goal like running 8 miles on a Saturday morning is a blessing.

I Did It!

A little over five months ago, right before the new year, I decided that I wanted change.

I was ready to focus on me, to invest in my health, and to stare fear in the face,

At the urging and encouragement of a friend, I reluctantly signed up to run a half marathon.

The cool part was that the race was on the morning of my 37th birthday.

The not so cool part was that I hadn't run a mile continuously in over a decade.

So, with the registration confirmation in hand, I started training.  Over the course of days, weeks, and months, I lost 26 pounds and gained confidence and strength.  I trained six days a week primarily at 5:00 am when everyone in my house was in bed and was done by 6:30 am.  I had a lot of set backs.  The winter months, brought two sinus infections and back-to-back urgent care visits with ten day antibiotic doses.  And then six weeks prior to the run, I injured myself with a nasty case of shin splints that took an act of God to make better.

And then this morning came...the day I'd been waiting for.  The alarm went off at 4:00 am.  My friend was picking me up at 5:00 am for the 50 minute trek to the race.  And by 4:45 am, it was hailing, thundering, lightening and sheets of rain were covering the streets.

My first thought was fuck me.  I'm screwed.

By the time the gun went off 7:00 am, the weather completely cleared.  There was no rain, barely any wind, and sunshine...but it was definitely humid and got hot as the morning wore on.

Equipped with an awesome play list, gu and sports beans for nutrition, and a head/heart full of mantras of strength...I set out to run 13.1 miles with 10,000 other runners.  It was amazing.  Two of my favorite signs read, "You've now run longer than Kim Kardashian's marriage lasted," and "Call me...clearly you have stamina."

The fans were incredible.  The streets were lined with people giving high fives and loads of good will and encouragement.  I crossed the finish line at the 50 yard line of the University of Nebraska at Lincoln's football stadium with my picture across the enormous Husker Vision screen while my family watched in the stands.

This journey has taught me so much.  But if there's one thing that stands out head and shoulders above it all...it is beyond a shadow of a doubt...that our greatest advocate lies inside of us.  There is no one on this earth who can do more for us than we can do for ourselves.  We just have to believe and we have to practice.  Life is about the doing, the being, the now. 

If you haven't gone for one thing in your life that feels impossible...do it.  The feeling will be indescribable and you will know forever that unbelievable strength lies in you.

Creatures of Impatience

We're all creatures of impatience.

We want what we want now.  It's just how we're made. 

So at the gym this morning, I turned to my girlfriend and said, "It's gonna happen, right?"  And she turned to me and spoke the truth, "If you stay the course, absolutely.  It's just a painfully slow process."  And, she's right.

For most anything in life, we just have to be willing to put the time in and to wait.  Typically its when we decide that we want to outrun the clock that we get messy.  We cut corners.  The quality of our work suffers. 

I know that I'll reap what I sow.  I'm just trying to figure out how to enjoy the journey, particularly when I can so clearly see the goal.  I know what she looks like.  I know what she feels like.  I know who she is.

And, so I'll continue to hearken back to the prayer I say each morning as the alarm goes off at 4:30am...please give me the strength to be patient and to believe in me.