Guess What?

Gratitude, that's what, and mountains of it.

Gratitude for incredible, generous friends who contacted me, and gave birthday love and compassion in the forms of bike rides (thank you Queen S!) and being a waffle love benefactor (thank you Sharon!). Tears were shed (mine) and Marko was actually intrugued each time I brought home gifts in surprise.

Gratitude for the Quadro (401 K) processes working incredibly quickly, which has meant money in my bank, in my wallet, and an easing of the delightful eye twitch I've developed over the last few months.

Gratitude for my work being so busy, which has got us over the corset-tight times financially, and has taught me more about what I want to do as a career.

Gratitude for friends who listen, who swear and/or pray for the boys and I, who care enough to offer to come mow my lawn (thank you Nicole).

Gratitude for my ward family who only see me every other week, but will be cranky on my behalf in an instant.

Gratitude for my boys, who will check each other but rarely me in our card games, and who always yell "I love you!" at me when they leave the house/car/room.

Gratitude amongst the thunder and lightning strikes, for being able to laugh and sing and swear and splash in this beautiful mess that is my life.

Muddy Mishap

Nearly 300 college kids were left stranded in the rain, after their unauthorized camping trip turned into a muddy mess. 

"I just want to take a shower," said one drenched camper, this morning on the news. I was surprised to see it was Tezz, standing next to Morgen.  

Enthusiastic party-goers met for a last-minute camp-out on the Salt Flats. 

"Word in the college community was that there was a big party in the desert flats, and so a lot of people came out... there was a 50 percent chance of rain,” explained Alex, one of the 300 stranded campers.  

Sure enough, rain poured down all night. By morning, the campers realized at least 25 of their vehicles would not be leaving any time soon.

"The mud was probably like 6 inches, you know, soft—just soft—wet, mud-kind of clay material; no grip,” he described. 

"My car is sinking right now, as we speak, so hopefully we can come get it out," said another camper. 

For some time, nobody else knew the group was stranded because the campers did not have permission to use the property. 

Meanwhile, the school district sent a few busses to keep everyone warm.

"However, some have been walking down State Road 196, but we're trying to get them all gathered up,” said the police officer. 

Participants say they do not mean to muddy the water but that they have to address their problems...

"Our car was on fire. We put it out with mud," said one man.  

Investigators say they will remain in the area until everyone is out. In the end, the happy campers say their muddy mishap just may have been worth it.

"I mean, it was pretty fun! It was cool. It was a bummer that it rained and that there's kids stuck down there,” another camper said. 

As far as damages and injuries go, police reported one wrecked car and one assault. They say their main concern, right now, is figuring out how to get everyone home.

Meanwhile, I was at the park with Markus & Co. in the midst of a muddy air soft battle. Fun times. 

Good Things

rainy nights
candles
long phone calls
hot chocolate
love letters
the smell of old books
silences that aren't awkward
kept promises
cozy clothes
slow dances
british accents
pinterest
long hugs
cheek kisses
late mornings
you.

{Sunday - after Markus' last time being in the Primary Program}

happy happy happy fall

{What the world is like if we stop looking to get something in return, and love unconditionally}

{We seek it, want it, need it yet it is hiding from so many of us: genuine heart-felt unconditional love}

{When I first heard about unconditional love, that I have to love myself first before I can love another, it sounded so simple, but really it is hard: letting go of making myself, and others, wrong}

When I make someone else wrong, I hold the energy of needing to correct, convince, control, or change someone else (4-C's as my therapist called them). Someone should "be or do" what I expect. When I did that blaming, complaining, or condemning was normal.

When I make myself wrong, I hold up this standard of how I should be, and end up feeling not good enough. Then I see myself and other people as a problem or objects that need to be fixed.

{Not infatuation, lust, or what you think makes you happy, but true intimacy at the level of your soul}

{Creating deep authentic connections with those who matter most}

{Love seems to come in precious moments that time and busy-ness take away. Instead of trying so hard to make love work, I'm letting love flow}

{I grew up in a loving, caring family environment with five sisters and one brother. Being in the middle, I followed the rules and learned what was right and wrong}

My parents, my dad an accountant, both worked hard and taught us strong values of freedom, generosity, and learning to work together. It was critical that we spent time together outside either hiking, biking or traveling. It made sense, and we became two flight attendants, a para-legal, an interior designer, an entrepreneur, a professional ice-skater, and me, (almost) a Registered Nurse.

{With 29 children among us, we all get along with only a little drama once in awhile, and the most amazing family get-togethers. I look forward to the holidays, and numerous birthday celebrations. Surprisingly, it turned out we are the norm.}

{I attribute the love we experience to my mom, who gives of herself like no other with the uncanny ability to know I love peaches! :) She is one smart, highly productive woman.}

{Logical with astounding common sense, she instilled high self-esteem - the secret to happiness. I certainly knew I was loved. Yes something was missing.}

{There was criticism, and judgement growing up I couldn't see-right and wrong and good and bad. It wasn't just in my family, it was everywhere.}

{Expectations of how to behave, what we were supposed to know, who we were expected to be, and where we were to get married were clear.}

{When I enrolled in nursing school, I suddenly found myself on a spiritual path. Suddenly I was learning things that did not fit and I quickly learned what I could no longer share.}

{Harmony does not exist in my family because everyone knows what to say and what not to say. It's the opposite because we have stepped out of the "family box" and shifted something. My happiness grew when I unexpectedly discovered what unconditional love meant.}

I learned:

• Happiness is a changed state of being
• Love can be experienced on many different levels

{Sometimes people say or do things that have destructive consequences. Believing love is putting up with, sacrificing, tolerating, or suffering in silence thinking their commitment is proof of their love, isn't love.} 

Understanding, seeing, hearing, and accepting someone for who they are is love.

When I make someone wrong, there's a value I hold being stepped on. It's black and white in my mind, but in between lives everyone else's perception of truth.

Someone else not living up to my value of "hard work" is "lazy".
Someone who doesn't follow my idea of "giving" I may judge as "selfish".
Someone I judge as "inconsiderate" is not acting in a way I see as "kindness".

When I stepped out of my box, I noticed how it felt when others projected their values onto me. The question is not whether someone is right or wrong, but whether the words and actions are coming from a place of fear on one side or love on the other. The result is either constructive or destructive.

Extreme fear breeds hatred leading to very destructive consequences that al-Qaeda created on 9/11 in NYC on the World Trade Center. Extreme love leads to compassion, and what Mother Teresa created in the world she lived in.

When I let go of needing others to live according to my "right" way, I realize how others respond is just a projection of their reality. A shift happens away from fear, toward love and compassion where I seek to understand, share, teach and live. Trying to be patient was next to impossible in that place I was afraid, but to love and I find all the patience I need. In the search for truth, it is in the eye of the beholder. Discernment not judgement leads me to truth by being curious and noticing whether someones perception of reality comes from love or fear. It is the difference between:

Competition and Cooperation
Doubt and Trust

It will lead to:

Holding on or Letting go

I am not in a place to judge, I have no superiority. No one is inferior. It was a destructive energy of being attached to "I am right" that I projected onto someone else. I noticed what came back when I did that, was always defensiveness because, Hello! No one wants to be wrong. It took me a long, long time to realize being attached to "I am right" was criticism because I didn't necessarily see someone as inferior.

The Golden Rule found in almost all spiritual teachings: are you treating someone the way you want to be treated? Who wants to be treated to criticism and judgement?!

When I let go of convincing, correcting, controlling, and trying to change others, I release a big illusion of love: ownership.

I thought that belonging to someone was wonderful, but the opposite is true. Having the independence to share your true self and allow others the same brings true intimacy. No one makes you happy; happiness is found within. Until I lived with compassion with myself, the love I was giving was conditional.

I am a unique daughter of Heavenly Father raised from my birthday to the present day living my truth based on my own values, beliefs, experience, and understanding. In any given moment I can only "be and do" my "best". My "best" is not the same as someone else's "best". We cling to love wanting it to last forever, but it can't because we are the ones carrying that love, and we are constantly evolving. The love we share is either growing together or growing apart. The paradox of love is that it can grow apart, but it can also grow stronger.

I married someone who fit the idea of what I thought was "right," and my awareness at the time of what I thought would bring me happiness. It did.

I thought it was love, but it was conditional, and that's why it felt like something was missing. Now I know differently, and there is a lot more authenticity. I learn more everyday.

The secret to experiencing deeper love is allowing each other to grow.

On my birthday, I experienced the most profound sense of love I have ever known especially with my three boys where I needed to let go of criticizing and judging them. In the past year I have learned that love is wanting others to be happy without it needing to be about me. This is how I know I love my boys, family, friends, and even my students. They are not dependent on me for their happiness, and I am not dependent on them.

I know I can show up without criticism and judgment and I allow them to exactly who they are and that love is exchanged. Unconditional love doesn't always come with the family we were born into because criticism, judgment, and the resulting expectations are a huge part of family culture. Family love is strong, lasting, and nothing compares. Experiencing unconditional love required breaking free from the family circle to follow my heart, and my own truth.

True love is eternal even if a relationship grows apart. When I surrender judgement, I see the beauty in everyone. Including me.    
  

{This is love}

A Sky Full Of Stars

Just Another Day

time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like...

ordinary life

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Today was just another day.

The boys - even though it was Sunday - had hockey and I woke to their alarms punching holes in the night even earlier than I do for work.

Today was just another day.

I lay in bed, thinking of what I accomplished yesterday (not as much as I'd hoped), deliberately turned away from this next week, and thought of what needed to be done today. Remembered I had to get Max to Steiner for his last session of mini camp, take two quizzes before midnight (I promptly forgot), and the memory of protein shakes in the fridge waiting to be poured into glasses hauled me out of my cocoon.

Today was just another day.

Marko rushed up to me, snuggled in deep under my arm for a hug, his enthusiasm and "Happy Birthday Mom!" warm against my chest. He asked about my sleep, any dreams I remembered, if he could draw me a picture, mow the lawn, and asked me questions about what happens if a plane hits Mt. Everest and if he could buy a fake thumb and then wandered off to have a read in my bed.

Today was just another day.

Max came into the car, smiling theatrically over my shoulder as I loaded the car. He asked how I slept, what time is the hike, if I remembered ah to buy the trail mix he used to like when he was little. (It's been so long since he was little!) Morg and Tezz chatted about not much at all. Max one sentence about school as he drove to hockey, then ate four pieces of toast, peanut butter and banana dripping joyfully from his grip. He yelled out a denial to Marko's accusation of dusting (shinny hockey game competition had rapidly evolved to best of eleven) and they both sat, slapping at each other, laughing as I sat watching them and watching for cars. 

Today was just another day.

There were no cards, no breakfast in bed, no wrapped presents. Max offered a handful of his favorite nut and chocolate mix from his bag, and the offer itself was gift enough.  We watched as 19 hockey boys made their way up the trail, the beloved Dog Lake, repeating favorite lines together and laughing. Morgen, Max and Marko are all in bed now, snuggled in deep just the way they like it: Maxi in a knotted twist of blankets, dog and limbs, Morg impossibly pillowed with Tezz, and Marko my comforter kicked onto the floor.

Today was just another day.

I had kissed them each goodnight in the family room, saying "I love you" against their cheeks. Five, ten minutes later they each yell out again "Love you Mom!" and I yell it back, a tradition and defense against the world for years now, then their sleep drifts under their doors and down the hallway.

Today was just another day.

Despite the way birthdays excite me so delicately, so I'm an excited bunch of joy but no bleeding, today really was just another day. Another day of being with my boys, listening to them cry laugh and debate, having their laughter soak into my bones. To have Max want to drive me home from the picnic because of my headache, to Marko bouncing onto my bed to read beside me, to have the last thing they say - and hear - being "I love you", was just another day.

Just another ordinary, familiar and wonderful day.