What if?

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If you knew how your life would end, and when it would end, would you do things differently?

If you knew you’d pass from an undetected illness that suddenly appeared, would you trade the years you lived for fifty more if your condition was known and your early years had to be replayed in a bubble-wrapped world? Or would you keep them as-is with no regrets?

Would you have a list full of “I should have” statements, or an album full of “I’m glad I did” memories?

Would you look back and be proud of what your contributions were? Would you like your obituary?

Would you feel like you checked the boxes on your goals, or would those boxes be empty with a string of excuses and years of procrastination instead?

Would you like the person you were known as? Would you want to be the person that others describe?

Tonight I am thankful for the “do” that every minute, hour or day can provide, for the reinventing that can happen if we’re not feeling that the path we’re on is where we want to be, and for the limitless action we can take — so long as we have the desire and a compass that at least partially works. Here’s to enjoying all our days, and to making our remaining days ones for which we’re proud to be known.

Two Birds

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Did you know that refrigerated Duncan Hines home-style milk chocolate frosting tastes like fudge?

I know this because sometimes I buy a 16 ounce container and, over the course of a few weeks, call a few spoonfuls dinner…along with a cocktail, natch.

It lasts longer than an open container of most other refrigerated things I can think of: milk, leftovers — the only things it seems to not outlast are salad dressing, barbecue sauce and other condiments…but, really, how would those ever come close to standing in for a meal?

As for that adult beverage, I’ve dubbed it Two Birds by virtue of it consisting of Diet V8 Splash and vodka: a helping of antioxidant vitamins while cocktailing. Toss in a wee bit of triple sec and it’s delightful beyond description.

Bonus points if a meal such as the above happens to occur on a night when something like, oh, You’ve Got Mail is also on TV. So what is all this leading up to? What could I possibly be thankful for on this warm June evening?

The fact that my dinner did coincide with that very film tonight. Sometimes the planets align so perfectly, it confirms that which I already knew: yes, yes — there is a God.

Here’s to all our planets aligning and finding joy and happiness in the simple things.

My Whole Life

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Occasionally I yearn to be one of those people who is able to say, “My whole life has led up to this moment.”

I often wonder what my life is laddering up to. I’m a single, 36 year-old gal who just adopted another cat, I don’t have a home that I own, I do have a lot of bills, I crave sleeping in and try to do so whenever my schedule allows, and I write a blog every day that’s read — but by whom, exactly?

Some days I have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going; other days I have confidence in my journey. I have dreams and I can see them coming to fruition, but sometimes getting on the path that leads to them seems so far away. I can’t picture it — I can only picture the next day, maybe the next week. I feel like I’m stuck in a rut, and those days that I have a soft spot in my heart for routine are what keep me here.

I talk a lot about baby steps, and I can tell you that I take them every day — if there’s one thing I’m not guilty of, it’s staying put. I’ve been called flighty before, but it’s not that at all. I’m simply curious, and I make time to explore.

The other night I was reading a devotion that really resonated with me. Or rather, it was a solid reminder of what I already know to be true. Patience is key, and everything happens in time — when it’s supposed to happen. Everything happens under His watchful eye.

I’m not impatient. On the contrary, I wonder if I’m a bit too content with the way my life is. While I wonder what my life is laddering up to, I’m thankful for knowing that everything will be clear to me in time. It may be in two years, in five or in ten, but they say patience is a virtue — so patient is what I’ll continue to be.

A Fine Curse

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In the same way that we might find ourselves driving along with music in the background that we’re not really paying attention to, life can be the same.

It’s there, and it’s OK. Not bad enough to change, not good enough to turn up. It is, in a word, “Fine.”

Nothing is standout. You still get up every day, go through your routine and you might even occasionally wonder if you’re OK with things. But right when your attention turns inward, something else captures it: a child, a dog that needs walking or feeding, maybe a spouse who had a rough day, the laundry, a TV show that delays your reflection for another half-hour, some online activities that put things off for the better part of a day.

The next day is also fine — no better, no worse. You sense that you’re in a holding pattern. You’re in idle. You’re wasting gas. What to do?

Identify something small to improve. It might not be something that you think needs fixing, but change it up anyway. Take a different way to work. Start a once-a-week habit of treating yourself to something special.

Take a class. Take the trip you’ve been thinking about. Plan a day trip. Take a walk every morning. Plan a weekend trip. Learn a new skill. Try out a new recipe — and if you’re adventurous, host a dinner party and try that recipe out on friends for the first time.

Fine isn’t bad, but there’s room for improvement. It doesn’t have to cost money, it doesn’t have to be a huge time commitment. And this isn’t to say that the things that require our attention on a daily basis are things we should turn our back on. On the contrary, involving them in your mission might transform “fine” to something better, too.

Tonight I am thankful and excited to find a way to shift fine to awesome, and to stop wasting fuel by idling. Here’s to change of any size, on any level.

Are you in the market for change?

The Bright Side

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I switched elementary schools at that critical point when state capitals were being taught. As a result, I don’t know them all by heart.

I had a small music scholarship to a college in Indiana, but didn’t accept it. As a result, I ended up majoring in advertising…elsewhere.

I’ve never had a good New Year’s Eve when my plans involved other people. As a result, I am a huge fan of staying in, protecting the pets from the sound of nearby gunshots and making cocktails for a party of one: me.

But wait, there’s more: I have an obsession with maps — something that I like to attribute to my geographic curiosity that wasn’t killed by elementary school teachers.

I play music to this day, both “just because,” and also as a stress release — something I’m convinced wouldn’t be the case if I’d been a music major.

If I ever tie the knot, I think it’d be pretty fantastic to elope on New Year’s, or to have one heck of a cocktail party with only close family and friends. What better way to heap loads of love on — and instantly transform — a day that’s never been particularly exciting?

I recently told a story about a bush — my bush. To clarify, I’m speaking about a bush of baby’s breath that found itself sprouting from my head during my junior year of high school.

I’d gone to the hair salon for my first dance ‘do, and I was fairly excited. I took along a small, delicate bunch of baby’s breath with the intention of having a few tiny blooms strategically placed on my noggin.

What resulted was a horribly stiff ‘fro that had been severely pulled back and held in place by enough bobby pins to turn me into a walking, human antenna. I was told it was a French twist, but I suddenly wanted nothing to do with the French — ever — if this was their idea of a good-looking coif. Their fries, however, I’d make an exception for (natch).

Further, the entire wad of baby’s breath had been stuck into the twist itself. It looked like I was getting ready for a date with a weed whacker, not a dude.

It was brilliantly terrible.

I left, petrified of what my date would think when he saw me. I instantly checked my watch to see how much time I had to rework the mess, and there was just enough to work a miracle…barely.

After showering, busting a move with my mousse, hair dryer and curling iron, I dusted off an old friend: my banana clip from the 80s. It might’ve been nearing ten years old, but there’s nothing a little creative improvisation can’t remedy.

The point of all this? There’s a silver lining to most everything, and nothing is ever so serious or dire of a situation that it should ruin any moment of our existence.

Everything happens for a reason. And there is always a bright side.

Always.

Even if you might not see it right away, it’s there. Spin things if you must, and don’t feel bad about it — seeing the positive is good for the soul. Besides, there’s no point in getting bent out of shape about things that are over and done with. All we can do is vow to fix them or to not repeat the past. Obsessing doesn’t change a single thing.

Tonight I am thankful for the things I’ve not learned, for the curiosity that exists in place of knowledge, for bright sides and the seemingly random that always happens for a reason. Shifting one’s perspective can often shift your outlook — for the better.

Advice about advice.

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Ever notice how it’s easier to dish out advice than it is to listen to our own?

The Golden Rule exists for a reason — it’s good for everyone. When it’s thrown out the window, we all suffer.

If he’s not reciprocating, move on. Staying essentially condones his bad behavior and makes you a doormat. Neither scenario will lead to a match made in heaven.

If you’re not happy, there are two choices: talk out your issues with the intention of fixing things, or talk out your issues and walk away. Anything less than talking ensures a catastrophic failure on one level or another, and at some point or another. Unless we were born mute, there is no reason to allow a speech handicap into our lives.

If you’re not living your dreams, head in a new direction. It’s not enough to simply gaze at your target off in the distance — motion is required. Go. Do. Something — anything.

If you want to make a change of any size, commit to a step each day. Baby steps count. They also add up. Get after them.

I could give advice until I’m blue in the face, but what’s interesting about the above is that they all apply to my life. So what’s my issue? I know the value of the Golden Rule. If I’m not following my own advice, is that to say I don’t want to be treated well, or that I don’t want to treat myself well? No.

It all goes back to a little issue I have: I’m avoidant. I’d rather someone straighten up on their own than have to be told. I’d prefer to have my efforts thus far pay off in dreams that magically sprout wings. I’d like to be capable of more motion than I’m able to give.

The reality is that my steps are those baby ones I mentioned, but — thankfully — they’re steps all the same. The reality is that I have a long way to go, but even more reality is that I’ve come a long way, too. I’m not where I was, neither am I where I want to be. But advice that sinks in however slowly still sinks in.

My advice about advice is to be patient with it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and as nice as it would be to pull a 180 whenever we wish, we’re not always wired that way. Everything in time — even progress. And for progress, even of the smallest kind, I am thankful.

Once is enough.

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How is it almost the middle of June already? Didn’t we just have Christmas? I just put the Weber away for the winter…how can it be time to use it again every weekend?

Sometimes I notice the speed at which life flies by and it astounds me. It’s so easy to get caught up in the milestones, in living for the next season instead of enjoying the one we’re in and in making sure we get to that next paycheck — just so we can turn around and anticipate the one after that. It’s so easy to focus on all the other moments except for the one we’re living in.

There’s a Mae West quote I like that says, “You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.”

You’ve heard people say that when we look back on our lives we’ll never wish we worked more, spent less time with our families and loved ones, or spent more money, right? I’ve always heard this and believed it, but it never really hit home with me and sunk in until my 30s.

I don’t have a lot to show for my years of working. I don’t own my own home, my car isn’t paid off yet and I couldn’t buy a place tomorrow if I had to. While I’d change some things I did over the years, on the whole I wouldn’t trade my path for the world. All the missteps taught me what not to do moving forward, and how to be better starting immediately.

I like to think that appreciating all I have — and all that I don’t — fits with the quote. I may not have done everything right, but once was enough because of the change that accompanied the outcome. And what could be better than that?

Tonight, post-migraine and with a head spinning because it feels like the New Year was just yesterday, I am thankful for knowing that despite how quickly time passes, once will always be enough so long as we see the lessons before us and live in each moment we’re fortunate enough to be given.

Gray Sky, Blue Sky

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A pre-flight wine flight did wonders for my acceptance of our delayed departure. The seat-back digital button pusher and screaming infant immediately behind me, however, were trying my patience.

The storm was moving in quickly and, despite the crew’s urging to board swiftly in order to beat the weather, the usual passenger dawdling ensued. As we pushed back from the gate and made our way out to the tarmac, the rain wasted no time pummeling our plane. Lightning and thunder were seconds behind, and we were grounded.

It never ceases to amaze me how irritated and crotchety people can become over a weather delay. Yes, I’d like to be on my way, too, but would prefer to arrive home alive — not in a body bag.

We finally received word from the cockpit that our lift-off would ultimately come an hour and ten minutes after our scheduled time. I settled into my seat and made myself comfy, mesmerized as I watched the bands of rain pass by my window one after another. Planes lined up next to us, wing to wing; the formation was beautiful, and we all sat patiently.

When we were finally on our way, we were swallowed up by gray, which then gave way to billowy white clouds. Soon, we were surrounded by bright blue, with all the turbulence below us. It’s not every day we see such a strong parallel to our own lives, but today was one of those days.

Today I am thankful for knowing that the rough times don’t last forever, and that blue skies will fill our lives once again. People may push our buttons and test our patience along the way, but bad weather always moves on and delays aren’t the end of the world. Here’s to enjoying the good times when we have them, and finding a positive takeaway from the bad.

Here’s to all our minutes.

Rural Magic

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After nearly a month of doing a pseudo-vegan diet to fit into a snug [understatement] bridesmaid dress, I cut loose and set my tastebuds free today.

A nearby vineyard was my target, and I had a sneaking suspicion I’d be making up for lost time.

Before I knew it, I was taking down a foot-long baguette with a meat and cheese plate — vittles which, according to the menu, served two to four people. Today, however, it was made for one:

Me.

I was getting a lot of looks from the other winery visitors. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was hogging a four-person table with my feet brazenly propped up and resting on another chair as patrons circled for an open seat, if it was because they were eyeing the baguette crumbs — seemingly a foot deep — which had snowed down upon my cardigan, or whether it was because I was a ravenous spectacle to behold — a spectacle which, every so often, would periodically be grossed out at how greasy my iPhone screen was becoming. Nobody said a plate full of finger meats and cheese slices alongside little gherkins was a classy, tidy feast, but it certainly was delicious.

I thought for sure I’d return to my hotel with half the baguette. I didn’t. I didn’t leave it there, either — I finished it. All of it. There was so little left that not even the wandering vineyard dog stopped to see what he could clean up for me. He knew I’d already Hoovered it up, so he made his way to the next table where he had better luck.

I’ve been on a country music kick for a few weeks now, and it seemed fitting for my drive through northern Virginia. With the late afternoon sun casting long shadows and tiny insects flitting here and there in the hazy light, I cranked up the tunes, paid no mind to my pollen-induced allergies which had just started to flare up, and enjoyed the balmy warmth on my skin as I drove away.

During last night’s wedding festivities, we noticed as we held our sparklers in the damp night air that a few fireflies came out to wish the bride and groom their best, as well. This afternoon while I drove, I wondered if I’d see them again tonight. I hadn’t seen them since a trip to North Carolina back when I was six years old or so, and their appearance last night was magical, just as the vineyard’s beauty today had been.

Whether the fireflies return this evening or not, I have their memory to hold close for another 30 years, or for however long it is before I see them again. For the beauty I’ve seen over the last few days, for the setting-free of my tastebuds and the breathtaking scenery in this part of the country, I am thankful.

Bliss.

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They say that preparation is the key to success. Today, I think that enjoying every possible moment of a fantastic day is the key to success.

Neither rain nor humidity, gray skies or umbrellas can dampen the spirit of a bride about to marry her best friend. Both are ready, calm and eager to call the other “spouse.”

From early morning grogginess to a hair salon where mimosas graced the individual stations, from makeup being done in the hotel room to primping, preening and absorbing every smile and well-wish, a bride’s day is full of beauty all around — beautiful moments shared with friends and that moment where you can finally exhale and breathe again following months of planning. Hand-in-hand with your partner for life, a new path awaits.

For your beautiful day and your happily ever after, I am so happy and thankful. Congratulations on their wedding bliss — much love to Nicole and Dave.