Category Archives: self help

A New Kind of Freedom

Forty days of self-isolation due to COVID-19 and I am slowly coming to terms with this redefining of our freedom and I suspect, for many of my fellow Americans, it may turn out to be the one civics lesson that sticks with all of us, that is, once we emerge from hibernation.

For one cannot look away from the terrible pandemic images gracing our televisions, our phones and computer screens night after night, of brave souls putting their lives on the line in hospitals and towns in every corner of this country; bodies lined up in hallways, and empty offices and mass graves awaiting funerals that will be devoid of family and friends; and not feel some sort of gut wrenching horror as to how the hell we got to this place of thinking ourselves, this Great American Experiment, infallible?

For although there is much mystery about this virus, it has wasted no time exposing our naiveté. Our America the Beautiful. A place I love so very much and proudly fly the flag and pray for every day.

But a place, just the same, that has buried it’s collective head in the sand when it comes to fixing what is broken, focused more on Vegas odds and clever memes, than scientific data or just plain common sense, because, well, it’s not as fun to talk about at the dinner table.

1)A nation that assumed freedom was an absolute, defended by our guns, our constitution and our military might, and yet, has been humbly brought to its’ knees by a communicable disease; an invisible, equal opportunity offender, for which statistics are proving that privilege plays a role in whether you live or die.

2)A nation who’s financial markets have thrived on making collective love to power and money and courting the vulnerable into believing the have-nots can play the game equally; the claustrophobic stench of their deception now revealed by unemployment figures that rival the Great Depression.

3)A nation of talented minimum wage workers, tradespersons, and the non-college educated, who modern society has systematically demeaned and relegated to the dustbin of professional choices, and for whom there is now no argument as to the high value they contribute to our very survival.

4)A nation of family, friends and strangers where the word hate would roll freely from lips, as we laughingly chose to social distance because they looked, thought or behaved differently; oh how we long to hug them close, just once, just once more.

5)A nation of teachers, coaches and mentors who we consistently underpaid and undervalued and for whom we now join our children in praying for each night, as we come to recognize just how big a role they have played in raising our children.

6)A nation of wanna be food critics, where our food supply was never gourmet enough for our palates, and for which we now have a new found appreciation of the magic of a seed, the immigrant in the field, and what farm to table truly means.  

7)A nation of leaders of all faiths that for the past thirty years, we’ve abandoned in droves, their buildings unappreciated shells, their sermons unappreciated truth, but for whom we now readily turn to for answers that make sense of all this madness.

8)A nation of caregivers of our elderly and infirm, whose names we barely took the time to learn before all of this, but who now act as our stand-ins with our loved ones, their careworn hands a lifeline of hope.

9)A nation who freely polluted the air, trampled the landscape and soiled the seas and now marvels with surprise at the blueness of the sky, the animals emerging from the shadows and the clarity of the oceans.  

10)A nation of first responders: doctors, nurses, police and firefighters, whose oath to save lives was something we took for granted, but whose willingness to continue to fight for us,at great risk to their families, has us believing in the possibility that God really has returned to earth in human form.

Its’ humbling isn’t it?   All the things we thought we knew about America, about each other.   Thought important.  Thought we valued. Thought we got right before this pandemic business.

It’s taken a viral pandemic to cause us to look in the mirror and understand that for all of its’ bravado, all of its’ bluster, all of its’ grandeur, America is first and foremost a nation of human beings, human beings that are not all equally blessed. Freedom is not available to all…not yet. And so sometimes, it requires others to give more. To expend more time and talent and energy to get the job done.

And I know that makes some people angry.   Some protest because it’s too painful to think about things not going back to the way things were, to a time where we could all ignore what the virus has revealed to us. Some shout the end is near, doom and gloom around the corner. Some could care less about any of it. Give me my normal.

I’m not worried. Messiness has always been a part of the American way and it’s from this diversity of choices, and thinking, that some of our greatest moments as a nation emerge.

But no matter our fears, I encourage you not to focus on the anger and to not look away from what the mirror has revealed. For to look away and not truly see what this virus is teaching us, is a missed opportunity. 

For the question being asked of us now is pretty simple:

When all this is over, will I be ready to listen, to change, to do what is needed for the benefit of all of America, this new freedom? Or am  I going to go back to the same old, same old and only listen to what I want to hear, what is easiest to hear, and what suits my own selfish narrative?   

Because while this virus has revealed an America that has some work to do, it has also revealed an America where there is much to be hopeful.  An America where love and kindness, compassion and caring for each define the character of many of it’s citizens. Where leaders and mentors come from all walks of life and step up to help. Where the hero is not always the most obvious person in the room and where the importance of human contact is valued more than the size of our wallets or the size of our egos.

It’s exciting.  It’s positive. It’s a new kind of freedom and it’s ours for the taking.

What will you do? How will you respond?

PositivelyAnne

Caring for our kids in a time of crises

As a long- time educator and mom of 3, I would like to offer a few words of comfort to parents, grandparents and caregivers in these anxious times of the COvid-19 virus.  

Children, even very young children are very astute. They know something big is going on right now and they sense adult anxiety and their first inclination is to want to fix it.  They do not like seeing adults unhappy because most children see the world as a very joyful, happy place.  So, do not be surprised if during this time of crises, your children are overly clingy, act out, cry or become argumentative and ask you question after question out of frustration that they can’t fix what is going on and bring life quickly back to normal.   

In addition, don’t be surprised if your high school and college student is an emotional cyclone.  Suddenly their campus schedule that they were finally getting a handle on, has been quickly replaced with on-line learning, housing uncertainty, extra-curricular activities canceled and their friend group suddenly torn apart. This can all be very anxiety producing and it’s very difficult for a young adult to have the rug suddenly pulled out from under them when they have just started being responsible and making most of their own decisions.   So prepare yourself for a roller coaster of anger, frustration, protest, and maybe even unreasonable demands that you do something, anything, to put it all back as it was.   

My best advice to you is to acknowledge this sucks and give everyone the opportunity to voice their feelings. And dads, this means you too! You can’t very well expect your kids to open up and talk about their feelings if you are unwilling to do so yourself.   A child’s anxiety and fear, no matter their age, are often mitigated by a parent being open about their own feelings, so do the bold thing and start the conversation.

But while it’s important to be open to sharing feelings, it’s also important to be mindful that sharing does not mean dumping problems on your kids they have no means to solve.   You have to be mindful to have those difficult conversations, regarding things like potential financial loss and job uncertainty, away from the ears of your children.   And for goodness sakes, no one, not even you, needs to be parked in front of television pundits 24-7 filling your head full of supposition and unproven facts.

It’s good family lesson that in the immediacy of a crises, what matters is the facts. There will be plenty of time down the road to battle it out over what could have been done better. But the reality is that isn’t your job. Your job is to go about your daily lives as best you can and as safely as you can.

In other words, downsize the problem to what is yours to manage. Your plate is full enough already!

It’s also important that your children know that the facts about this crises might change as our government and the medical community understand more about the virus and what we need to do to prevent it.   Details may be sparse and then overwhelming, but ultimately, we will have them and it’s important to remain flexible and not panic.   

Our most important roles right now are to keep calm, wash our hands, cover our coughs, wipe our noses with tissues, practice social distancing and avoid unnecessary activities that might compromise your safety or that of others.

With this crises comes a greater emphasis on sanitation and if you think about it, there is an opening now without mom and dad begging, for all children to learn more about the importance of keeping things clean to prevent disease spread. So, let your kiddos participate in the household chores as they are able.  Now that you’ve stocked up on sanitizing supplies, you might even encourage them to look through their toy chest, books and comics and old clothes. Figure out what they want to donate and they can sanitize everything, pack it up and it’s ready to be donated when things settle down.

Try your best to keep some sort of routine during the hours your children would normally be in school or sports or other activities.   While your college age children may be doing some sort of on-line schooling, younger kids may find themselves suddenly with a lot of free time.   No more recess with friends.  No more afterschool sports, band or dance class.   But that doesn’t mean that learning has to stop.  

While some kids may view this extended break as a great thing, most kids will eventually long for their old routine, miss their friends, their teachers and the sense of doing their own thing that school and extra-curricular activities away from mom and dad provided.  

So, it’s important during this period of transition that you work with your child(ren) to set up a home and school routine with all sorts of educational and fun activities to fill the gap and give kids a sense of ownership over their lives.  

Set out Board games and puzzles, word searches, science kits etc… Pull out the old Disney DVD’s, the Star Wars Saga, the old black and white classics and not only watch them, but talk about the life lessons in them. Pull out the dress up box and create a play or tell jokes. Get out photo albums, year books and old home movies and maybe explore your ancestry on-line. Extend the activity by making a favorite family recipe. Put on some records and your favorite 80’s jams and dance your socks off.  Dust off that piano or guitar and have a jam session.  Write a song and record it.  If you don’t have an instrument, then make one out of an upturned bucket or a pan lid or cardboard box.  Put out water colors, crayons, paints and paper and let your inner Picasso out. Learn that video game your child is always playing.  Let them teach you about twitter and Tic Tok, YouTube and Instagram and Snapchat.   Use your phone camera to take funny pictures or make a movie together. Go out into your garden and weed and plant and talk about nurturing God’s creation. Make homemade cards for the military and homebound and look on line for ways to serve in your community, or speak with your Pastor about what is needed in your church family.   Groom your pets, make homemade dog and cat treats, visit online sites on nature and brainstorm what you might do as a family to help protect our natural world.  Grab a blank journal and write a story and illustrate it together. Turn on an episode of “I Love Lucy” or “Friends” or “American Horror Story” and make fudge and pancakes and popcorn. Write a letter, E-mail friends and family, or better yet, teach your child how to talk, not text, on the phone with their grandparents!

For those in high school and college undergoing an immediate structural change in how they learn is very stressful, so it’s important to keep engaged with their well-being and mindful that this isn’t as easy as it sounds. Yes, the younger generation is much more technologically savvy than prior generations, but that doesn’t mean everyone processes information the same way. On-line learning is a whole different ball game then a classroom experience and your student may find they are frustrated with the pace of the course, with the inability to immediately ask a question, with the lack of student interaction and the lack of hands on learning. They may also find their teachers, who they thought knew everything, may not be up to the task of administering an on-line course. So you may have to have conversations with your child about patience and understanding and cutting people slack. And in some cases, you may have to help your child follow up with the appropriate campus entities if the online educational experience is really sub-par.

Also, a lack of extra curricular activities, which is so vital to most high school and college kids, can immediately turn your kind and considerate child into a feral beast. Help them by finding new ways to maintain their physical fitness if they were formally engaged in competitive sports or dance or cheer; explore together on-line courses and websites that might engage them in new and fun ways and do not be afraid to let them take point to help the younger ones in your family. And for gosh sakes, get out of the way and let them talk out what is happening with them with their friends. I know you want to be there savior, but right now, you need to remember that they never asked for any of this. So it’s important to give them the privacy and space they have been used to and allow them the time to work out what is happening in their own mind.

While these things might sound silly and corny in a time of crises, I promise you that if you do these things, several years from now, when you are all gathered as a family and your children are telling their own children about the “Great COvid-19 Virus of 2020”, their conversations will not be a story of tragedy, but a story of hope.  A hope that you instilled in them today, right now, in this time of crises. A hope that the promise of a better tomorrow is never at the mercy of a tragedy if we spend our todays positive and productive and always, always moving forward with the gifts God has given us.

Stay safe and well dear readers and feel free to add your own thoughts and comments that might help others during this challenging time.

PositivelyAnne

The Pull of Negativity

Do you ever have one of those days where life is cruising along on positive speed and then for some reason, you feel the pull of negativity and just like that, your day has gone from milestone to millstone?

I have a theory about that.   Maybe you will agree or maybe you won’t, but my theory is that we are supposed to have days like that, at least until we learn to think differently.  

The reason has to do with how we are wired as human beings.  We have a hard time unconditionally accepting positive anything without some caveat being attached to it.  For us to truly develop an understanding and appreciation of the joy that positivity can bring into our lives, our imperfect human selves need balance and as such we invite good ol’ negativity to the table time and time again.  

In other words, we need some negative sprinkled into our positive lives in order to continue our positive journey forward. 

That seems rather confusing I know and it’s taken me forever to figure it out, but here is an example that happened to me recently that illustrates what I mean.  

A couple weeks ago, I had a very good day.

I sat down to write about 730am and continued for the next six hours pretty much non-stop.  My hands were literally flying over the keyboard, the flow of the ideas in my head perfectly translating into the words I wanted on the page.  For those of you who write, you know that sometimes the vision of what’s in our head isn’t exactly what translates to paper.   So, when it happens, it is a very good day. 

My back started to ache from being glued to my desk chair for so many hours and although I probably could have continued to write, my positive self knew it was time to get some exercise and keep the positive momentum going. My office window looks directly down onto our garden below and I spied a few weeds sprouting, a couple rouge snails encroaching on my newly planted veggies.   A positive opportunity to check off a couple chores, while making my Fitbit happy.  All good things.  

Two hours and a chipped manicure later, I had won the battle of the weeds and snails and had added another three thousand steps to my Fitbit and decided to reward my positive achievements with a generous glass of wine (emphasis on the generous), a little dish of wasabi trail mix and some quality time with my book club read before my hubby came home from work.

Parking myself on the couch, I dived into Hemingway and the Spanish Civil War, mindlessly reaching for my wine glass and a few Wasabi nibbles every now and then.

“Psssst!” 

Absently I looked up from my book. 

“Pssst!”

It was only me and the cats in the house, but still, I distinctly heard what sounded like someone trying to get my attention.   

I looked across the room at the sixty-inch box of doom and gloom affixed to the wall.  

“Hey girl, heard you had a positive day.  That’s good, really, really good, you’ve got your wine, your wasabi trail mix, your book, but it’s all so positive….”

Is my television set talking to me?   Eyes wide, I grabbed my wine glass and took a big gulp.

“Girl, you worked hard all day.  Productive.  Positive all the way around.  But   deep down you are worried things have been just a little too positive today.  Too smooth, no bumps in the road.  That makes you uncomfortable, right? 

“I’m not worried things have gone too positive today,” I say out loud to the television, “I AM NOT!”

Still my hand started to reach for the remote control, hovering. 

“Turn me on.  You know you want to!  Aren’t you the least bit curious if the Hallmark channel will bring back “When Calls the Heart?”  I mean who would have thought a goodie-goodie like Aunt Becky (aka Lori Loughlin from Full House days) would be capable of buying her daughers way into USC?   C’mon, you know there are probably four or five channels green screened with Ex-Justice Department officials discussing all the days political dirt.   Oooh, how about one of those home improvement channels where you can listen to people whine about not having an open floor plan?  I think one of those commercials for the Humane Society is on…you know the ones that show abused pets as Sarah McLaughlin sings “Arms of the Angel?”  

All that juicy negativity!

I took another huge gulp of wine and choked.

“Pick up the remote…pick up the remote…c’mon you know you want to!”

“I’m reading my book!  I’ve got my wine and my wasabi nuts, why do I need to turn on the television set?”

I didn’t need to.  I had a good day.  A completely positive day!  However, despite the positive vibes still reverberating through my body the pull of negativity was calling me and I pressed the remote button.

Like some mindless idiot, I began flipping, flipping, flipping, between multiple cable news channels looking for some nasty gossip of Aunt Becky and Hallmark; waded through five stations of unemployed justice department officials talking about how everyone hates everyone and was sobbing my eyes out watching a commercial featuring a dog with mange, eyes pleading at me to save it, when my husband walked in the front door.

Has this type of thing ever happened to you?

There you are, ready to immerse yourself in a little “me” time to celebrate the fact that you’ve had a perfectly good day.   Maybe it’s not in your top ten of good days, but on the positivity scale, you have no complaints. You are all set to keep the positivity party going when for some reason you feel the pull to seek the dark side calling.

Sometimes it’s completely understandable.  Your life is cruising along great and then like a trip wire, you get news you have cancer or heart disease, your favorite aunt is dying or your job is being eliminated and just like that, you find yourself stumbling and tumbling into negative territory.     

We’ve all been there and if you haven’t, you might want to think about an Ancestry test to determine if you are a Vulcan, emotionless and related to Spock. 

But fortunately, or unfortunately (depending on your viewpoint), most of us feel and that means we are vulnerable to the negative in these types of situations.

That being said, what about the times when there is no trip wire, no obvious stumbling block for you to overcome in your positive day? Just like the pretty great day I was having before my remote-control trigger finger went in search of everything Darth Vader!!!

Why do we constantly do this to our positive selves?  Why did I do it to myself? 

One possible reason is that our human selves seek out negativity in response to positivity as a result of guilt.  

“Maybe I don’t deserve all of this positivity!”

I know in my own life, I can recall many times I have talked myself into thinking my positive experiences were not all that positive by intentionally picking them apart, looking for the loopholes.  

I also know I’ve gone through phases where I thought that embracing my positive self would somehow makes me less relatable to my family and friends.  That somehow, someway, if I gave all the power to positive thinking, positive behavior and positive living, I’d lose sight of the negative and become self-absorbed and unable to feel empathy towards those going through rough times.

“Oh, there SHE goes again, everything’s perfect in her world all the time!”  

As an introvert, the idea of people thinking this about me literally tore me apart inside.  Even though no one has ever said this to me or implied it of me.

What I’ve basically done is unconsciously instituted a sort of cover for both of these issues by reinforcing my daily positives with negative reinforcements.  In other words, I go searching for something negative to remind me how truly blessed I really am.  That’s why I picked up the remote the other day to seek out something negative.

A negative capstone to my day.

How messed up is that? It’s pretty messed up. BUT I guess it just proves I’m human and not Vulcan.

But you know something, the more I delve into this positivity thing, the more I feel like maybe it’s o.k. if the teeter totter of life isn’t quite balanced.  Maybe I don’t have to go in search of something negative to balance out the good. Maybe life can just be good, period!

Why do Positivity and Negativity have to share the ride?   Up and Down they go.  Up and Down.   Up and Down.

Sometimes I’d like to just go up, up, up and stay there.  How about you?  

It’s something I’m planning on really working on this summer by developing my level of trust and acceptance that if life is going great, then it’s o.k. to be positive and leave it at that.   Total acceptance of the positive. Well at least half acceptance of the positive is a good start. I’ll try!

But until that time, I’ll placate my negative side with a few moments of cable nastiness about Aunt Becky and her demise and then I’ll get back to appreciating my very positive life by drinking my wine, reading my book and …

Oh crap, I think the cat just hacked up a wasabi nut on my carpet.   UGGGH!!!!

Positively Anne

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Finding “Me” in a Photo

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I have always been fascinated with photography. 

Oh, not in a way that I ever wanted to pursue any sort of career with it.  No, I’ll gladly leave that pursuit to my very talented brother and sister-in-law who have spent decades mastering not only a variety of camera lens and filters to achieve a perfect shot, but also possess a level of chill and patience in waiting for that perfect image, that frankly God didn’t gift to me.

But thanks to some creative folks at Apple, photography novices, like me, can be pretty successful with an I-Phone.  Point, click, edit a bit and post.  Yep, that suits my purposes just fine.   Because photography for me is strictly about appreciating photographic images for their ability to capture a moment that at once appears stagnant, but who’s meaning is a free-flowing, ever-changing story.  A story that can evoke all sorts of emotions in humanity, and can sometimes be powerful enough to change the course of minds, even history.   Including my own.

I’m going to tell you a story of one such photographic image.  It’s an image I took in 2017 on a lonely stretch of beach in Santa Cruz, California called, “Natural Bridges.”     

It was February and my husband and I had taken a drive up to Santa Cruz to spend the week-end with our oldest son. It had been nine months since my bi-lateral mastectomy for breast cancer, two months since I had completed radiation, ten days since I had surgery to control uterine bleeding and one month before my world would once again be turned on its’ end with five consecutive major surgeries having everything to do with my survival,  yet little or nothing to do with breast cancer.     It was a pretty scary time. 

But on this day, I was feeling happy.  The rain had been pretty fierce the day before, but today the sun peaked through the clouds in fits and starts.  Drizzling one moment and then seeming to lift so that the gulls and other sea birds could forage in the surf crashing on the rocks of the beach below.  My son thought it would be fun to show us his favorite spots around Santa Cruz and it was pretty spectacular, despite the drizzle.  Everywhere I looked, the light seemed to change from greys to reds to pink to yellows and back to grey.  Through my phone camera I just couldn’t get enough of the scenery.  It was as if every shot spoke to me somehow.

Our son told us about this special place where the water had worn a hole through a rock outcropping called “Natural Bridges.”  

“Mom, it’s pretty darn cool, a natural bridge, you just have to see this!”, he said.  

To view the bridge, we had a short drive, and then were going to have to walk a little bit through some brush and pretty deep sand and make our way to the floor of the beach below.  It was low tide, so access wasn’t an issue, but my husband and son were  worried the trek down to the shore might be a little much for me, given I was still recovering from surgery.   Maybe so, but I knew my boy and if he said something was special, it was special, and not to be missed.  So without another thought I said I’d be fine and off we went.

And I was fine.  I was totally fine…physically.  But emotionally was something else.

As I picked my way through the brush and sand, I could see this amazing rock outcropping in the distance about 300 yards off shore.    It was about the size of a football field and rose several hundred feet into the air.  Birds of all sorts were perched atop its’ smooth surface, almost like a football team lining up for the kick off.   The ocean was lapping against it’s surface, swirling and whirling, forming foamy bubbles that took on the hues of the changing sky. 

About three-quarters of the way through the outcropping an arched shaped hole had been worn through the rock by the water and the ocean was flowing in and out of it.   It reminded me of the natural bridges I had seen in Lake Powell, Arizona or a kind of imperfect Arc de Triomphe, that is,  if water were to flow through it.   

It was like someone just plopped a bridge in the middle of the sea with this really cool water feature.    

Excited, I picked up the pace and forgetting my recent surgery, I ran down a steep incline of sand so that I could take pictures.   Reaching into my pocket for my phone camera, I looked up and then I froze.

The rock was huge this close up.  Huge.  But all I could see was the hole in its’ center. 

A giant gaping hole! 

The hole, that reminded me of my mastectomy!   The hole, that reminded me of the pain of finding out I had breast cancer!  The hole, that reminded me of the pain of telling my family and friends I had cancer!  The hole, that reminded me of the pain of having to leave a job I loved because of cancer! The hole, that reminded me of the pain, both physical and emotional, that I tried so very hard to hide from everyone before, during and after my cancer surgeries and treatment.  

The hole, that reminded me that cancer took a piece of me.  Left a hole, where now I had some silicone, some fake body parts that for all outward appearances made me look normal, but would never be the real me. 

My new normal was a hole.  Just like the one I was staring at in that rock outcropping and it frightened me. 

Here I was this sturdy rock of positivity for my family and everyone around me and I had a hole in me…a big, ugly, negative hole that no amount of plastic surgery, no amount of anything could fill up.     

I felt empty.  I grieved. 

“Mom, come look at the driftwood over here,” my son said.  

“Just a second,” I replied, and raised my phone.  I pushed the button for the camera and aimed the lens at the rock outcropping. 

Once…Click.  Twice…Click! Three times…Click!

Click, Click, Click, Click, Click…

With each click, I could feel the grief rolling through me. 

In and Out!

In and Out!

In and Out!

Just like the ocean rushing in and out through the hole in that rock.

I’m not sure how many pictures I would have taken of the “Natural Bridge” if my phone battery hadn’t chosen that moment to die. I’d like to think it was God’s divine intervention, but whomever or whatever forces were at work in that moment, a dead battery was enough to snap me out of my grief and go in search of my son and the drift wood.

And except for that one, brief, moment in time at the “Natural Bridge”, everything else about that week-end was amazing and upon returning home, I was anxious to make a photo collage so that I could post to my personal Facebook page a memory of our trip for my husband and for our family and friends to see.   

The shot of the rock outcropping, (there were over 40 photos on my phone of that hole in the rock to choose from), was hard to include.  To look at it made me sad, uncomfortable, and lonely for the me that used to be.  But I put those feelings away and mindlessly popped the photo into an insignificant square of the photo collage, no more powerful or important than any other memory of that trip.

And there that photo stayed until a few weeks ago.

I was looking through my on-line photo albums in search of photos of the ocean I could use for my daily Instagram and there it was, sitting there in cyber space, waiting for me, in all of its “holy” glory.  That “Natural Bridge” in Santa Cruz where I came face to face with all that I had lost, with the hole in my person. 

I expected to feel a rush of negative emotions looking at that photo.  But they didn’t come.   In fact, when I looked at that rock, at the hole in it, at the ocean rushing in and out of it, I felt…well, I guess you could say, I felt happy.   It reminded me of a fun day with my son, but it also reminded me of how far I have come in the past couple of years.

The photos story had changed, because I had changed. 

I mentioned before that soon after our visit to Santa Cruz, I had several unplanned health setbacks.   Five major ones to be exact, with a myriad of other health issues as a result of those five surgeries.   While these setbacks were not pleasant, with each one I made it a point to be more open to the positive, to remember to focus on not what set me back, but what propelled me forward.  The more I did that, I seemed to grow stronger emotionally and fear less all that lay ahead of me.   

It was true that my body was broken, bruised, battered, my energy depleted.  But somehow, someway, no matter how many holes in my person, deep down I felt a burning light, a strength that I didn’t know was possible because time and again the blessings flowed to me, through me, no matter how large the hole in my body. 

In and Out.

In and Out.

In and Out.  

And the more I opened myself up to the possibilities of the “new me”, to the fact that I was always going to have some “holes” in my life,  the more positivity flowed into my darkest recesses, planting seeds of faith and hope and blessing.  

The most amazing thing is that many of these blessings have come from strangers. People I would never have met or opened up to, if not for the fact that I had cancer or any of the other health issues. My life is so much richer for each conversation and there is a gratitude in my heart that kindness is alive and well and abundant in the world.   Do not let anyone tell you different! 

It’s as if this hole in me has become a welcoming portal to all that is possible for my life and I want to shout from the roof tops, “I AM BLESSED!”  

The photo I took of the “Natural Bridge” in 2017 told a story of a woman who was uncertain of her future, feared her destiny and felt she had to battle her demons alone. 

This same photo, viewed in 2019, reveals the story of a woman who has accepted her vulnerability, embraced her imperfectness and is working to conquer her fears one day at a time with a whole lotta help from the world. 

It is now a photo that tells a story of me. 

PositivelyAnne 

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What’s Your Mission?

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Have you ever thought about what your “mission” in life is?  

I’m not talking about the lists of errands and forgotten “To Do’s”.   I’m talking about if you could focus on something that would bring you happiness, joy, purpose, and encompass all that “You” represent to yourself and the world, what would your “mission” be?

My journey to uncover my own “mission” has by no means been an easy one.   In fact, it’s actually pretty fluid and right now, I guess you could say that in this particular moment my “mission” is to spread “POSITIVITY”  through my blog on PositivelyAnne.  

As my life ebbs and flows though, so does my “mission”, but it might help you to understand how to define your own “mission”, if I share with you a little back story on how I have been able to find and define mine.

My journey to find my “mission” began when one afternoon, at the age of eight, I happened to hear these powerful words spoken by Captain James T. Kirk (actor: William Shatner)of the starship Enterprise in the opening credits of Star Trek: The Original Series:  

“Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year “mission”: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

I imagine you are laughing now, but I am totally serious.  Totally!

You see I grew up at a time when space was on the minds of all of Americans.  Once Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin planted the American flag on the moon in 1969, those grainy images on our television set of subsequent Apollo missions and the nightly commentary from broadcaster, Walter Cronkite, sent my imagination soaring.  The nursery rhyme of my childhood that talked of a cow jumping over the moon, was now replaced by real people traversing the “cheese” planet with lunar landers.   It all seemed so big and grand, a “mission” of the utmost importance.

In addition, my father was an aerospace executive and one of my earliest memories is standing with him and my brother in front of a rocket as it was intentionally blown apart on a launch pad as part of its’ “mission” testing.    I have never heard a bang as loud as that since then.   It was truly awesome to witness, but more importantly it etched the word “mission” into my subconscious.  The idea of something powerful, something important, something BIG, really, really BIG!

I was too little to watch the original Star Trek series when it premiered on NBC in 1966, and if not for the growing interest in space after the moon landings, the show probably would have faded into obscurity, written off as a novelty, as were most of the shows in the early days of television.  But the moon landings happened and after it’s 3 -year run, Star Trek was blasted into syndication riding high on the possibility that the secrets of space were now within our reach.  I watched it as often as I could.

Now being so young, I had no real concept of the deeper meaning of Star Trek.   I didn’t understand the lasting implications of the diversity of its’ cast.  I didn’t understand its’ ground breaking storylines addressing differences, and inclusion and compromise    I guess you could say I didn’t understand much, if anything, of the historic context of the television I was watching.   

But, to be perfectly honest,  I didn’t really care about any of that.  I didn’t watch the show for its’ story lines, my little girls heart was captivated by the opening credits and Captain James T. Kirk’s hypnotic voice inviting us to be a part of his “mission.”

 “Space, the final frontier…”   

I was rapt with curiosity. I wanted to be a part of the “mission” of this crew.  To explore, to seek, to go where I had never gone before. 

It sounded so important.  I wanted to be important.  To do important work like the men on the moon and my father.  I wasn’t sure that my calling would be space flight…math was not my favorite subject, but I knew that whatever I did, I wanted my “mission” to matter, to my family, to strangers, to the world.

As I entered high school, America had long ago stopped going to the moon, both in real life and on television.  We discovered the moon was not everything the Gumby cartoons had portrayed it to be, let alone Star Trek.   My father now worked on a new space program, a space shuttle that would be able to return to earth…a sort of “space truck”, if you will.   While its’ initial missions seemed endlessly exciting to me and my heart soared along with my fathers at each successful flight, I was watching television both times the shuttle exploded.  First the Challenger, then several years later, the Columbia.

I felt the horror, along with thousands of other students across America, as our disbelieving eyes tracked the sky for the glittering remains of lives lost and dreams shattered.  Something in me decided that day that it was no longer practical to reach for the stars and the moon.  Keeping my feet grounded here at home, where I knew it was safe, seemed the best course of action.  At this point in my life, my “mission” was to get my head out of the clouds and remain rooted in practical tasks and goals here on earth, at least for the next several years.  Sometimes my “mission” seemed very trivial. 

I’m on a “mission” to finish my homework so that I can go out with my boyfriend.

I’m on a “mission” to pass my geometry class.

I’m on a “mission” to get my college applications completed before the deadline.

Then…

I’m on a “mission” to get my laundry done.

I’m on a “mission” to go to the grocery store.

I’m on a “mission” to finish this book I’ve been wanting to finish.

Lastly…

I ‘m on a “mission” to lose 5 pounds.

I’m on a “mission” to not have tan lines.

I really like those Mission Tortilla Chips!!!

Yes, the grandeur of Captain Kirk’s “mission”, the same “mission” that made landing on the moon possible and sent the shuttle into outer space, was now reduced to nothing more than making sure I had a decent tortilla chip to dip into my salsa. 

So much for the final frontier!  

But trivialities aside,  I did accomplish quite a bit after high school.  I graduated with degrees in Liberal Studies-Journalism and Business and launched a successful career, first in hotel management and then in higher education.  I met the love of my life in the dorms and got married and within a few years we were expecting our first child.

One day, in the first trimester of pregnancy, I found myself on the floor of the bathroom wrapped around the toilet battling a terrible case of morning sickness.   I had pretty much memorized “What to Expect When You Are Expecting” and realized I needed to do something to take my mind off of the nausea.  Laying down seemed to make it worse, so bed was out, but I decided I could probably prop myself up on the couch and watch a television program as a distraction.  

I crawled out of the bathroom and over to the couch and turned on the television.  I had no idea what was on.  I heard the opening notes of Star Trek and Captain Kirk’s comforting voice:

“Space, the final frontier…”   I relaxed.  The nausea left me. I closed my eyes and I began to dream about all the “missions” that had come before me and were to follow.  

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I dreamed about those men who braved the odds to fly millions of miles above our earth to place their footprints and our flag in the dust, only to travel home to crickets chirping once we knew that aliens were not a part of the equation. They never gave up on their “mission”, even as America lost interest in them.

I dreamed of my dad and how tirelessly he and his team worked to make space flight look as easy as driving a truck and the sadness he must have carried inside him when all that was possible for space exploration, suddenly seemed impossible.  He never gave up on his “mission” of searching and seeking answers to mans quest to explore space.  

I dreamed of my unborn child, the bean inside me that soon would become our son or daughter and how much I wanted them to know that whatever their “mission” in life, their father and I would never give up on them, ever!

Lastly, but most important, I dreamed of my own “mission” and how I didn’t need to let life’s twists and turns stop me from progressing.  At times, I move forward at warp speed.  Other times, I sit quietly in the shadows taking it all in.   Sometimes, I am a great success.  Other times a great failure.  But, I am always, always compelled to keep trying, not only for myself, but to honor all of those who have come before me and risk it all.

I have a “mission” and it’s ever changing, like me.    But I’m all in.  I’m ready for the challenge and in doing so, I truly think I have a damn good shot at this whole live long and prosper thing.  

Thirty years of marriage, three kids, and four careers later, I’m still trying, one positive step forward at a time.   Won’t you join me?   PositivelyAnne

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