Restoring Fatih When What You See Sucks

A new day sun means you have a chance to restore your faith

 

The last 4 weeks have challenged every positive mass I have in my body.

First, Prince died.

Then a few weeks later, my family moved. And while it was a planned and prepared for quick move across town, it about killed me both physically and emotionally. The grief it emoted about my pending divorce was debilitating.

Finally, I discovered this week that a super precious piece of jewelry is gone. Don't even remember the last time I saw it before the move. It was significant for many reasons among them, it was meaningful by who purchased it for me and the thoughtfully constructed additives each year since I got it for my birthday in 2014. 

I was at my end in puddle of tears, rage, anger, sadness and grief this week.

But I got up the next day and had to face my life all over again and here's what I did to make that happen:

Find Something Good

Gratitude is the cure for everything. In the midst of my worst day this week that really culminated a crappy string of days and weeks, I found something to be grateful for. It was small. But it was significant. It was a reminder that our lives are compiled of moments and while I am in the midst of a string of really crappy moments - I can find some good. You can, too. You must seek it. Look diligently for the one positive thing that occurs in the midst of turmoil. You can build from that.

Focus on Your Purpose

I have a purpose on earth. And I am living it. Even on the super hard days. When I feel sad, angry or despondent, I remember that I am here to drive better relationships. I am here to inspire others to be real - with themselves and those they do life with.  Even in my pain, there is purpose. When you find your purpose, be sure and use it as fuel. This week I was able to impact people with my talents in the midst of deep heartache. Last week was not different. Or the week before that. Focusing on my purpose makes this season less treacherous.

Know It's A Season

I've been saying that to myself for over a year now and I don't believe it any less. We cannot be down forever. I have no idea when my season will turn but I know it will. I have been on earth 44 years  and have seen my life in cycles and seasons since my mother's passing when I was 4 years old. I remember vividly great seasons and really desolate seasons throughout my life. This is no different. And while I have no idea when it will change and be a calm and peaceful season, I have faith that one day I will look back on this season and be better for it. Personally and professionally.


If you are like me, in the midst of a seemingly never ending tough season of life. Take heart.  Find something to be grateful for, focus on your purpose and be confident that it's a season that will indeed pass.

My Circle of Life Moment

There goes another rubber tree plant

Over the years, whenever I heard the theme song from the 1994 classic Disney movie, The Lion King, it never meant much to me. I'd just sing along with Sir Elton John and reminisce about the great animated tale of King Mufasa and Simba's journey to his destiny.

This past April 1, for the first time ever, I had a personal connection to that simple song. The ficus "rubber tree" plant in the photo above was gifted to my very best friend when her beloved mom passed away suddenly. After the memorial, as we were clearing the funeral home of all their belongings and all the wonderful floral tributes to her, I was stopped in my tracks seeing this plant.

It was my circle of life.

You see, when my mom passed away in 1976, someone gave us a similar plant. I grew up with that plant and it was taller than me when I left for college in the fall of 1989. I loved that plant, for it represented so much. It was the vitality and  living breathing proof of my mom's existence for a very long time. I am not a green thumb at all but I did care for that particular plant. (I hear they are pretty hard to kill). When I left for college, I took for granted that that plant would be there or would one day be mine. I did not think to verbalize my love for that plant at that time. A series of unfortunate events happened over the years and along with all my baby photos with my mom,  that plant disappeared from my life. I cannot tell you I ever even felt the loss of the plant.

I've mourned the loss of my pictures many times but the plant was an obscure hurt that I did not feel again until that day in April standing in a central Illinois funeral home. I immediately felt drawn to the plant.  I mentioned to my BFF my story, briefly and succinctly. We were very absorbed in her grief and it felt selfish to even say it but I am glad I did.

Later that afternoon as we were leaving, she called me into the living room with her brother and her father and asked me to take and care for the plant in honor of her mom and my mom. I could not keep my composure. It's even taken me months to write this because the overwhelming emotion of thinking how amazing it is - this thing we call life.

Really.

This friend who was pushed off my lap in 1990 and almost wasn't my friend.

24 years of friendship.

A clear schedule on my calendar for the precise days she needed me.

A ficus plant someone thought to send.

If that is not the "circle of life", then I don't know what is.

The Bittersweet Sting of Mother's Day

I'd love some cookies like this for Mom's Day!

Each May, the world stops to honor moms. In Spain it is the first Sunday of May while in Mexico, Mother's Day is May 10 whatever day that lands. In the US and many other countries, moms are honored the second Sunday in May.

For most people this is a joyous occasion, either as a mom themselves or honoring their own beloved moms. There is, however, a fraction of the population that has a bittersweet sting each Mother's Day. Motherless daughters like myself know what I speak of.

I hadn't really thought much about it until I was asked last week to reflect on motherhood. The 40 minute interview was really the first time anyone had asked me in depth about my feelings on motherhood.  It was enlightening.

The question that triggered the most tender response was asking me to describe motherhood in three words. One of my words was "loss". We kept talking for a minute but then the interviewer circled back to that word and asked me to describe why I used it. Never before that moment, had I truly felt the deep and profound loss that I feel related to motherhood. It was telling. I could barely speak. And while my feelings take nothing away from all the mother figures in my life over the years - it was only in that moment that I made the connection of my motherhood to that of the lack of my mom in the journey.

So for all the joy that is being a mom to my two kids, I realized the sting of motherhood for me last week. And then I thought of countless other women; others whose moms have passed away - regardless of when it happened. Women who may have "lost" their moms to abandonment. Women who have moms that they do not have a relationship with or with whom they have a very poor relationship. Women who had children but lost them. Women who long to have children but cannot for whatever reason. Mother's Day has a bittersweet sting for these women.

Please take a moment this Mother's Day to be on the lookout for hurting people who are not quite celebrating. Look for them in your life this week as you cut through the clutter to buy gifts and take moms out to eat - notice people who may need an encouraging word. Take a moment to proactively reach out to women you know that possibly fall into the categories listed in the previous paragraph.

I'm certain they will appreciate the extra love this weekend.

Why We Must Join Billy Joel Go To Extremes

Triumphant. Victorious. High.

Devastated. Crushed. Low.

The plight of the super high energy person - Extremes.

After a particularly extreme week, I finally collapsed in exhaustion late last night. Unable to move, I slept for 5.5 hours straight and woke up like clockwork at my early morning quiet time.

But it was quite different today. I have finally accepted a deep loss. I mourned it. Prayed about it. Laughed about my obsessive compulsive behavior related to it over mango shakes with two wise women. And now I'm better.

I wish I could say something magical on how to deal and cope better with the extremes that we high energy folks go through but alas there is nothing. Really.

The best way to "deal" is to go there.

Go to your mountaintops - experience the joy. The victory of accomplishing something awesome. Savor it. Share it with those you love. Love it.

And at the same time I encourage you to embrace your pain. Wallow in your loss. Weep. Scream. Feel it. Share it with those who can handle you down. Love it.

Because the next day is a brand new slate. You owe it to yourself and your relationship with others to experience your extremes and then move on

This Billy Joel song was ringing in my head when I woke up. It helped.