We are now on Daylight Savings Time. While the mornings have been a little rough this weekend, we have converted to the evenings easily.
A conversation at my house this week:
Me: Nolan, please unload the dishwasher.
Him: The sun is still out, can I do it when it is dark? After the sun goes down?
Me: Of course.
Him: I have to go be outside. The sun is out.
Me: The dishwasher still has to be unloaded before we go to hockey.
Him: Of course. When the sun goes down, I'll come inside.
Him: Just remember, I'm your son....
How can a mom argue with that?????
Friday, March 15, 2013
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Love
Love isn't always romance. You love your relatives, friends, pets. You love doing things. Love also means romance.
Sometimes love though doesn't sound like love, but it's love even more.
Our neighbor in Hawaii has sold his house. (The house we stayed in last summer). He's moving back to the mainland. Sedona for now. We will see where he ends up. He keeps saying Florida. This move has caused quite the panic in Duncan. My romantic, dreamer child. "What about the white pineapple I planted?" "Can he move it next door?"
I call Joe. He doesn't answer, so I leave a rambling message asking all the questions. Now remember, Joe is ornery, and that is how he shows his love. He loves us in a way words can't explain. His actions can explain it. I mean, how many people give you their house in Hawaii for a summer?
His return phone call answers:
I know it's hard to really see how funny his reply is because we know, how much love there really is, this is just how he shows it.
While in California a few weeks ago I was with a dear friend. We've been friends for over 20 years now. I was so crazy for him many years ago. So glad we have the friendship we do. Duncan ADORES him - in that man-crush kind of way. He loves my boys too. He's the crazy Uncle that everyone needs.
We were sitting on the couch, in between the eight hockey games we attended that weekend watching a movie. All of a sudden, I jerked around really fast. He says, "what's wrong". I said, "I was about to sneeze and I was going to sneeze all over you.". He replied, "Oh, you could have sneezed on me - I clean up." I laughed and replied, "Now, that's true love". "Yes" he replied, "it is".
Not an ounce of romance in these two stories. Just lots of love......
Sometimes love though doesn't sound like love, but it's love even more.
Our neighbor in Hawaii has sold his house. (The house we stayed in last summer). He's moving back to the mainland. Sedona for now. We will see where he ends up. He keeps saying Florida. This move has caused quite the panic in Duncan. My romantic, dreamer child. "What about the white pineapple I planted?" "Can he move it next door?"
What about our boogie boards?
What about the snorkel equipment?
We won't have a dog to take to the beach!
What will I do without Joe to give me a hard time!
Now that he will be in the mainland, will he come visit us?
I call Joe. He doesn't answer, so I leave a rambling message asking all the questions. Now remember, Joe is ornery, and that is how he shows his love. He loves us in a way words can't explain. His actions can explain it. I mean, how many people give you their house in Hawaii for a summer?
His return phone call answers:
You will have to ask the Quinns (the Hawaii house owners) if they mind if the boogie boards are there. (In the meantime, he has already dropped them off for the boys for the summer).
The snorkel equipment was trashed, I threw it away.
Oh, and they only allow residents to be in the Lifeguard training, so I went and blackballed Duncan so he can't compete this summer. That is my parting gift to Duncan.
I can't remember the last question, but the answer is NO. Well, maybe, tell me which airport is closest to fly my plane.....
I know it's hard to really see how funny his reply is because we know, how much love there really is, this is just how he shows it.
While in California a few weeks ago I was with a dear friend. We've been friends for over 20 years now. I was so crazy for him many years ago. So glad we have the friendship we do. Duncan ADORES him - in that man-crush kind of way. He loves my boys too. He's the crazy Uncle that everyone needs.
We were sitting on the couch, in between the eight hockey games we attended that weekend watching a movie. All of a sudden, I jerked around really fast. He says, "what's wrong". I said, "I was about to sneeze and I was going to sneeze all over you.". He replied, "Oh, you could have sneezed on me - I clean up." I laughed and replied, "Now, that's true love". "Yes" he replied, "it is".
Not an ounce of romance in these two stories. Just lots of love......
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Maiden Voyage
There are tons of thoughts for the "first time" or "have never done" you do something:
They all sound "hopeful". Full of excitement
What's a phrase for the "LAST TIME"?
UGH!!!!
Nothing about ending sounds, in any way shape or form, like anything positive.
I thought and thought and thought. Researched and asked. I couldn't come up with a phrase I like about "The Last Time". "Odyssey" came close - it's the final trip for a ship. "The ship is on it's Odyssey". Guess I'm not the only one whom doesn't like the "last time".
I'm getting better at throwing things away - I tend to hang on to things too long. Two years ago I went skiing on Memorial Day weekend. Yes, Memorial (M is for May) Day. It was a fun day. I needed new skis. The only way I was going to buy new skis is if I got rid of my old ones. They were old. Way over due for new skis. We go to leave at the end of the day. I went to leave my skis on the deck. The girlfriend I was with talked me into taking them. "You will want them for 'rock' skiing in the fall". I tried to explain I wouldn't. I tried to explain I'm not good with endings. We took them. They are still in my garage. I haven't skied since. I knew. I didn't need new ones. I just didn't want the old ones. It would be better to leave them.
The beginning - we are all excited. We don't know what is yet to come. The END. The finale. We tend to view "the end" as looking back. Over. The past
My favorite sweatshirt? It was a grey hoodie, zipper up the front. (Irony here - I don't think grown-up's should wear hoodies). It was worn around the cuffs - the armpits had holes under them. It could no longer be worn outside the house. It was ratty, stained, yet still couldn't be thrown away.
Sometimes when you run a race, you are cold when you start. It's early. Once you get warmed up - you are still chilled only knowing soon you need different things to keep you warm, safe, secure later in the race. Those things you keep - you trained. Your music. The stuff that got you there. Sometimes you have to leave stuff behind.
I left the sweatshirt at the start line of my marathon in Greece. The only way I knew I could leave it behind. At the start of another journey. I have to admit, I did turn and look back after I dropped it. Maybe I was expecting a wave good-bye?
Recently sojourning home from chasing a sunset with a suitcase that had helped deliver me there. It's time to let go again. This time - it's a bright, royal blue suitcase that helped deliver me there. Santa brought it to the boys years ago along with tickets to Disneyland. The boys and I went on our "first journey" together into unknown territory. Now the suitcase: It's torn. Worn out. Beat up. Full of memories. It's made it's last journey. I'm having trouble throwing it away.
But it's not the suitcase that holds the memories. It's me. It's also not a sad moment. It's happy. "My oh my, the stories this suitcase could tell".
Maybe this time, it's being brave. Bold. Standing strong. Realizing being sad about the good-bye does not prevent the parting, it just prolongs the good-bye.
The suitcase is unpacked. I'm not leaving the suitcase - maybe this time, I can set something free. Set it on the corner with a sign stating "FREE TO GOOD HOME". My trash is another person's journey. I'm not leaving. I'm not telling anything they have to go. I'm being brave. For me. I'm walking to the curb.....Setting this Royal Blue suitcase free.
With all good-byes, there are new beginnings. Voyages. Journeys. Firsts.
Sometimes there is beauty in the "last". You don't have to go back.
Maiden Voyage
Virgin
Newbie
Beginning
First
New
Embark
Inaugural
Original
They all sound "hopeful". Full of excitement
What's a phrase for the "LAST TIME"?
Final
Terminal
Ending
Ultimate
Definitive
UGH!!!!
Nothing about ending sounds, in any way shape or form, like anything positive.
I thought and thought and thought. Researched and asked. I couldn't come up with a phrase I like about "The Last Time". "Odyssey" came close - it's the final trip for a ship. "The ship is on it's Odyssey". Guess I'm not the only one whom doesn't like the "last time".
I'm getting better at throwing things away - I tend to hang on to things too long. Two years ago I went skiing on Memorial Day weekend. Yes, Memorial (M is for May) Day. It was a fun day. I needed new skis. The only way I was going to buy new skis is if I got rid of my old ones. They were old. Way over due for new skis. We go to leave at the end of the day. I went to leave my skis on the deck. The girlfriend I was with talked me into taking them. "You will want them for 'rock' skiing in the fall". I tried to explain I wouldn't. I tried to explain I'm not good with endings. We took them. They are still in my garage. I haven't skied since. I knew. I didn't need new ones. I just didn't want the old ones. It would be better to leave them.
The beginning - we are all excited. We don't know what is yet to come. The END. The finale. We tend to view "the end" as looking back. Over. The past
My favorite sweatshirt? It was a grey hoodie, zipper up the front. (Irony here - I don't think grown-up's should wear hoodies). It was worn around the cuffs - the armpits had holes under them. It could no longer be worn outside the house. It was ratty, stained, yet still couldn't be thrown away.
Sometimes when you run a race, you are cold when you start. It's early. Once you get warmed up - you are still chilled only knowing soon you need different things to keep you warm, safe, secure later in the race. Those things you keep - you trained. Your music. The stuff that got you there. Sometimes you have to leave stuff behind.
I left the sweatshirt at the start line of my marathon in Greece. The only way I knew I could leave it behind. At the start of another journey. I have to admit, I did turn and look back after I dropped it. Maybe I was expecting a wave good-bye?
Recently sojourning home from chasing a sunset with a suitcase that had helped deliver me there. It's time to let go again. This time - it's a bright, royal blue suitcase that helped deliver me there. Santa brought it to the boys years ago along with tickets to Disneyland. The boys and I went on our "first journey" together into unknown territory. Now the suitcase: It's torn. Worn out. Beat up. Full of memories. It's made it's last journey. I'm having trouble throwing it away.
But it's not the suitcase that holds the memories. It's me. It's also not a sad moment. It's happy. "My oh my, the stories this suitcase could tell".
Maybe this time, it's being brave. Bold. Standing strong. Realizing being sad about the good-bye does not prevent the parting, it just prolongs the good-bye.
The suitcase is unpacked. I'm not leaving the suitcase - maybe this time, I can set something free. Set it on the corner with a sign stating "FREE TO GOOD HOME". My trash is another person's journey. I'm not leaving. I'm not telling anything they have to go. I'm being brave. For me. I'm walking to the curb.....Setting this Royal Blue suitcase free.
With all good-byes, there are new beginnings. Voyages. Journeys. Firsts.
Sometimes there is beauty in the "last". You don't have to go back.
Monday, March 4, 2013
The Ants are mocking us
We have ants. The little sugar ant kind. Not the fire ants. Not the mean ones.
We have the hard working. Never tiring. Never ending ants. They are in the kitchen. They are in the family room. My guess is they are in the crawl space too.
Every spring we usually get ants. The fall, we get spiders. All very harmless. All very annoying.
The cat will eat the spiders in the fall. They are little spiders - they just decided oh mid September, they would rather live inside. USUALLY, the ants come indoors mid April. They've been here for about a month now.
Usual remedy: Spray apple cider vinegar along the baseboards in the kitchen. Vacuum them up. Place those little plastic "ant motels" down. Put the "Seven's dust" outside along the edge of the house - then they are gone in about a week.
This year? They are not giving up. They will not go away. They will not die. They like cat food. I can put the cat's food bowl in the sink, fill it with water. Next thing I know, the ants are all over the sink. Maybe it's like antibiotics for ants - we've just made them stronger.
Honestly, I'm quite impressed with these ants. I've found morsels of cat food in a corner UNDER the ant motel. At least they know where to hide. Man, truly we should all be ants. They work hard. They are on a mission.
For a day or two, they let us think they are gone. Then we wake up and there they are laughing at us in the kitchen.
We will try again tomorrow. Ants have determination. Wonder if they have dreams?
We have the hard working. Never tiring. Never ending ants. They are in the kitchen. They are in the family room. My guess is they are in the crawl space too.
Every spring we usually get ants. The fall, we get spiders. All very harmless. All very annoying.
The cat will eat the spiders in the fall. They are little spiders - they just decided oh mid September, they would rather live inside. USUALLY, the ants come indoors mid April. They've been here for about a month now.
Usual remedy: Spray apple cider vinegar along the baseboards in the kitchen. Vacuum them up. Place those little plastic "ant motels" down. Put the "Seven's dust" outside along the edge of the house - then they are gone in about a week.
This year? They are not giving up. They will not go away. They will not die. They like cat food. I can put the cat's food bowl in the sink, fill it with water. Next thing I know, the ants are all over the sink. Maybe it's like antibiotics for ants - we've just made them stronger.
Honestly, I'm quite impressed with these ants. I've found morsels of cat food in a corner UNDER the ant motel. At least they know where to hide. Man, truly we should all be ants. They work hard. They are on a mission.
For a day or two, they let us think they are gone. Then we wake up and there they are laughing at us in the kitchen.
We will try again tomorrow. Ants have determination. Wonder if they have dreams?
Friday, March 1, 2013
The Chicago Rule
It's the middle of the night. You are in Chicago. (If you live in Chicago, you have to pick another city across the country). You can call as many people as you want. However, all you can say is:
That's it. That's all you can say. Then you have to hang up. Now, please don't do this if it's not an emergency, but just think about it.
Whom would be there?
If you are LUCKY. I mean REALLY LUCKY five people would show up. Probably, truthfully, we all have one or two. I don't mean those whom would show up in a couple of days. Or those whom would need to know more. Those are our "village". Yes, our village could convene in a week. Whom would be there TOMORROW. No questions asked.
I'm talking the people whom would be there tomorrow, at noon. They would know, if you are saying "Chicago", it's real.
A few years ago, this was "social" talk so to speak. A conversation had amongst friends. This "rule" was asked over and over again. Many conversations were spoken about this subject. Knowing how friendships are important.
Truly, we don't know whom will really show. Different people deal and help with different things in our lives. Then people we never thought would "come to Chicago", show up in Chicago. Surprises in life never cease to amaze us.
Years ago I dated a guy. Yes, the "Peter Pan" in my life. Well, one of them anyway. Through it all, people have always asked why I can't let him go. How we've maintained our friendship over these years. I don't know. We are mean to each other. We ignore each other. Real world, it would never work. We could pretend it might work. We actually even try this "relationship" thing every so often. Then we go long periods of time without speaking or seeing each other. If it was supposed to have worked out by now, it would have. When you get to the core of our friendship. It's not about romance. It's about being there for someone. We love each other. We always will. In a different way, the way friends are supposed to love each other. The thing is, I know. In my heart of hearts, if I needed him in Chicago tomorrow at noon, well, he would be there. (No that's not true. He would be there at one.) But he would be there. Not a doubt in my mind. My kids school play - no, he wouldn't be there. Me crossing a finish line at a race, no that's not him either. He's just there. Friends are there.
Sometimes we confuse actions as romance. Then we confuse friendship as love - the Hollywood kind. When actually, they are our friends whom love us - the real kind. The real friend whom will show up in Chicago, no questions asked. THAT is our friendship. THAT is love. Chicago style.
No, I've never asked him about "Chicago". He would be there. I've also never asked the three people I know whom would be in Chicago the question. You just know. Tomorrow at the hockey game? No. They wouldn't be there. That's where you will find me.
My Chicago friends? They are out there living their lives. LIVING. Breathing. Creating their lives. Not waiting. Knowing. If they ever need someone to go to Chicago in the middle of the night, well, someone will be there.
We will always LOVE each other. There are people we all LOVE. We just aren't supposed to live day in day out. We are not today. We are not every day. We are Chicago.
Go be the friend whom would go to Chicago.
"Being someone's first love is great. It's being their last love that is priceless....."
I need you in Chicago at noon tomorrow. It's an emergency. Meet me at the Hancock building in the lobby. I'll explain then.
That's it. That's all you can say. Then you have to hang up. Now, please don't do this if it's not an emergency, but just think about it.
Whom would be there?
If you are LUCKY. I mean REALLY LUCKY five people would show up. Probably, truthfully, we all have one or two. I don't mean those whom would show up in a couple of days. Or those whom would need to know more. Those are our "village". Yes, our village could convene in a week. Whom would be there TOMORROW. No questions asked.
I'm talking the people whom would be there tomorrow, at noon. They would know, if you are saying "Chicago", it's real.
A few years ago, this was "social" talk so to speak. A conversation had amongst friends. This "rule" was asked over and over again. Many conversations were spoken about this subject. Knowing how friendships are important.
Truly, we don't know whom will really show. Different people deal and help with different things in our lives. Then people we never thought would "come to Chicago", show up in Chicago. Surprises in life never cease to amaze us.
Years ago I dated a guy. Yes, the "Peter Pan" in my life. Well, one of them anyway. Through it all, people have always asked why I can't let him go. How we've maintained our friendship over these years. I don't know. We are mean to each other. We ignore each other. Real world, it would never work. We could pretend it might work. We actually even try this "relationship" thing every so often. Then we go long periods of time without speaking or seeing each other. If it was supposed to have worked out by now, it would have. When you get to the core of our friendship. It's not about romance. It's about being there for someone. We love each other. We always will. In a different way, the way friends are supposed to love each other. The thing is, I know. In my heart of hearts, if I needed him in Chicago tomorrow at noon, well, he would be there. (No that's not true. He would be there at one.) But he would be there. Not a doubt in my mind. My kids school play - no, he wouldn't be there. Me crossing a finish line at a race, no that's not him either. He's just there. Friends are there.
Sometimes we confuse actions as romance. Then we confuse friendship as love - the Hollywood kind. When actually, they are our friends whom love us - the real kind. The real friend whom will show up in Chicago, no questions asked. THAT is our friendship. THAT is love. Chicago style.
No, I've never asked him about "Chicago". He would be there. I've also never asked the three people I know whom would be in Chicago the question. You just know. Tomorrow at the hockey game? No. They wouldn't be there. That's where you will find me.
My Chicago friends? They are out there living their lives. LIVING. Breathing. Creating their lives. Not waiting. Knowing. If they ever need someone to go to Chicago in the middle of the night, well, someone will be there.
We will always LOVE each other. There are people we all LOVE. We just aren't supposed to live day in day out. We are not today. We are not every day. We are Chicago.
Go be the friend whom would go to Chicago.
"Being someone's first love is great. It's being their last love that is priceless....."
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Your plane is boarding
Airplanes makes us primal.
Airplane friendships. Not airPORT conversations. Those might actually end up with social contacts or business deals.
I'm talking airPLANES. We all have had conversations on a plane that we would never had in real life. With the people we really know. Airplanes are safe. Not safe from danger. Nothing in life is safe from danger. Accidents do happen - every where. Not just in planes. Airplanes are safe places for friendships and conversations.
Some flights are better than others: clean, nice people, not too crowded. Others? Dirty, crowded, crying babies. However, no matter what flight we are on - we are all primal. The business executive walking around in his socks. The news anchor, with the night mask and neck brace. Walking around - with socks on. Head phones on. Laughing to different movies, pretending not to watch the others. All headed to the same city - all with different destinations.
The person sitting next to you. You tell them your deepest, darkest, happiest, craziest thing about your life. Chances are? You will NEVER see this person again. EVER. I've flown a lot of flights. Only once have I seen someone I sat next too - we had a date a week or so later when he was back in town. Other than that? NEVER. The the thing is, I think everyone knows it. I've heard stories I know no one else has ever heard either.
September 11, 2001, I was stranded in Los Angeles. I was supposed to fly home that day. Back to Denver. It was a short business trip. I was a "Class II" passenger allowed to fly home Friday, after the Tuesday of Nine Eleven. Class One flew home on Thursday. Class II - I had a return ticket, I wasn't "stranded in an emergency landing". Basically, the first return flights. A guy whom worked for me dropped me off at a hotel. There was no airport drop-off allowed. They shuttled me from some hotel parking lot to LAX. Before that we had stopped at a drug store to buy over-the-counter muscle relaxer (Doane's backache relief). I was a little tense.
There were armed guards at LAX. The planes that all crashed were headed to LAX.
As I sat at LAX, I remember looking around at the people. I remember thinking:
TRULY? We continue to tell people on this plane secrets?
I also remember I wasn't sure if I had the courage to get on the plane. Though I knew, it would be safer that day than it would ever be again. Aren't those always our fears? Are we brave enough?
But see, on the plane, we don't have to be brave. We have to be instinctual. We have to trust the person next to us, to take our insecurities. Make us safe.
The plane ride home from LAX was quiet. Still primal. An undercover Air Marshall was on that flight. There were only 20 of us - all gathered in one little section. We all told stories. We all shared fears. We shared hopes. No one said too much though. Hoping this time we all had at least one destination in common.
Airplane friendships. Not airPORT conversations. Those might actually end up with social contacts or business deals.
I'm talking airPLANES. We all have had conversations on a plane that we would never had in real life. With the people we really know. Airplanes are safe. Not safe from danger. Nothing in life is safe from danger. Accidents do happen - every where. Not just in planes. Airplanes are safe places for friendships and conversations.
Some flights are better than others: clean, nice people, not too crowded. Others? Dirty, crowded, crying babies. However, no matter what flight we are on - we are all primal. The business executive walking around in his socks. The news anchor, with the night mask and neck brace. Walking around - with socks on. Head phones on. Laughing to different movies, pretending not to watch the others. All headed to the same city - all with different destinations.
The person sitting next to you. You tell them your deepest, darkest, happiest, craziest thing about your life. Chances are? You will NEVER see this person again. EVER. I've flown a lot of flights. Only once have I seen someone I sat next too - we had a date a week or so later when he was back in town. Other than that? NEVER. The the thing is, I think everyone knows it. I've heard stories I know no one else has ever heard either.
September 11, 2001, I was stranded in Los Angeles. I was supposed to fly home that day. Back to Denver. It was a short business trip. I was a "Class II" passenger allowed to fly home Friday, after the Tuesday of Nine Eleven. Class One flew home on Thursday. Class II - I had a return ticket, I wasn't "stranded in an emergency landing". Basically, the first return flights. A guy whom worked for me dropped me off at a hotel. There was no airport drop-off allowed. They shuttled me from some hotel parking lot to LAX. Before that we had stopped at a drug store to buy over-the-counter muscle relaxer (Doane's backache relief). I was a little tense.
There were armed guards at LAX. The planes that all crashed were headed to LAX.
As I sat at LAX, I remember looking around at the people. I remember thinking:
- If the theory is correct, we are all connected by 6 people.
- In theory, everyone sitting right here. Right now, is connected.
TRULY? We continue to tell people on this plane secrets?
I also remember I wasn't sure if I had the courage to get on the plane. Though I knew, it would be safer that day than it would ever be again. Aren't those always our fears? Are we brave enough?
But see, on the plane, we don't have to be brave. We have to be instinctual. We have to trust the person next to us, to take our insecurities. Make us safe.
The plane ride home from LAX was quiet. Still primal. An undercover Air Marshall was on that flight. There were only 20 of us - all gathered in one little section. We all told stories. We all shared fears. We shared hopes. No one said too much though. Hoping this time we all had at least one destination in common.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Comfort Zone
Living confined within our comfort zone is an easy thing to do. It's safe inside the comfort zone. We think we know what will happen. What WON'T happen. The expected.
It can also get boring there. Predictable. Comfortable.
Even me, the adventurous one must venture outside my comfort zone. And it's hard. Yes, even for me. I'm not afraid to try. But it's still a push, and I'm a social person. Going somewhere new. Well, it's new. You don't know what to expect. It's hard. The people might not like you. We all still have that insecure person living deep inside. What if I fail?
Of course, most of our worries in life are just in our head. It's really not that bad.
So tonight, I'm going out with a few of the "hockey moms" - not my normal, "hockey mom" group - another group invited me out. I said yes. I always say "yes". Doesn't mean it isn't hard. What if I'm bored to death? What if they don't like me?
Who cares? It's not for the rest of my life. It's one night. I just might like a different place. Out of the rut.
Which brings me to my original adventure to Hawaii. It was risky. It was out of my comfort zone. It was a new thing to try. Actually though, I never even thought about it twice.
On the other hand, I've been quite stingy with my invitations for others to join us. This was MY adventure. Going to a place I had never been. Doing something I had never done. I wanted to go alone. It was important to me. In the past, I had traveled for business alone, but never on an "adventure". I needed to do it, for me. By myself. Then I wanted the boys there, just us. Usually, we meet up with people we know. I love those times, I just needed this.
Quite honestly, I'm a little possessive of "our island". Possessive of the time I have with my boys. Of course, I have invited some friends, and they have shown up! It's been a blast, but the invitations have been few and far between. Truthfully too, there are people I haven't invited - it's my escape from the real world. My real friends. Which is truly ironic, because they are my "real" friends.
This year though, a very special lady got an invitation. Come with me. For a week. Come to a place you have never been. On a journey by yourself. To a place far away. Out of your comfort zone. All of it. Long flight. By yourself. Come to a place that taught me so much about me. Come let me share my journey with you.
When I first mentioned it, I received the response I thought I would, "I don't know. It's far". Me: "Just think about it. You've always wanted to go. There were always reasons it didn't happen." "Papo didn't want to go. It was too far to leave him." "Now, though, he left you airline miles - it's a free flight. A free place to stay". "Just think about it."
Leaving a comfort zone is difficult. For anyone. Trying something different is scary. After 67 years of a routine, I know it's scary. But I found me, outside my comfort zone. I know you will be fine. After all, I am your grand-daughter.
It can also get boring there. Predictable. Comfortable.
Even me, the adventurous one must venture outside my comfort zone. And it's hard. Yes, even for me. I'm not afraid to try. But it's still a push, and I'm a social person. Going somewhere new. Well, it's new. You don't know what to expect. It's hard. The people might not like you. We all still have that insecure person living deep inside. What if I fail?
Of course, most of our worries in life are just in our head. It's really not that bad.
So tonight, I'm going out with a few of the "hockey moms" - not my normal, "hockey mom" group - another group invited me out. I said yes. I always say "yes". Doesn't mean it isn't hard. What if I'm bored to death? What if they don't like me?
Who cares? It's not for the rest of my life. It's one night. I just might like a different place. Out of the rut.
Which brings me to my original adventure to Hawaii. It was risky. It was out of my comfort zone. It was a new thing to try. Actually though, I never even thought about it twice.
On the other hand, I've been quite stingy with my invitations for others to join us. This was MY adventure. Going to a place I had never been. Doing something I had never done. I wanted to go alone. It was important to me. In the past, I had traveled for business alone, but never on an "adventure". I needed to do it, for me. By myself. Then I wanted the boys there, just us. Usually, we meet up with people we know. I love those times, I just needed this.
Quite honestly, I'm a little possessive of "our island". Possessive of the time I have with my boys. Of course, I have invited some friends, and they have shown up! It's been a blast, but the invitations have been few and far between. Truthfully too, there are people I haven't invited - it's my escape from the real world. My real friends. Which is truly ironic, because they are my "real" friends.
This year though, a very special lady got an invitation. Come with me. For a week. Come to a place you have never been. On a journey by yourself. To a place far away. Out of your comfort zone. All of it. Long flight. By yourself. Come to a place that taught me so much about me. Come let me share my journey with you.
When I first mentioned it, I received the response I thought I would, "I don't know. It's far". Me: "Just think about it. You've always wanted to go. There were always reasons it didn't happen." "Papo didn't want to go. It was too far to leave him." "Now, though, he left you airline miles - it's a free flight. A free place to stay". "Just think about it."
Leaving a comfort zone is difficult. For anyone. Trying something different is scary. After 67 years of a routine, I know it's scary. But I found me, outside my comfort zone. I know you will be fine. After all, I am your grand-daughter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)