Opinions in Action

Nothing is more conducive to peace of mind than not having any opinion at all. -- Georg Lichtenberg
Boy, do I have opinions. And I like to talk to other people that have opinions. I want to know what people are thinking and then I want to talk about it. Sometimes it's fun to be with people that share my opinions and then we can get all red-neck and rowdy.
But I also like to be with people that don't share my opinion so I can see if I really believe my opinions. Or do they fall to another's reasoning? Of course in those situations you have to be with people that will listen to you and who are testing their opinions also. I want to challenge and be challenged and then everyone laugh and move on - exhilarated and stretched.
I love to talk about those taboo subjects of politics and religion. You just never know when you just might learn something. I remember one time when a belief I held was challenged, stretched, pushed and over a period of time - changed. During that time I said to God, "Okay, enough. I don't want to be enlightened anymore." Other times my beliefs have come out stronger from the testing, and the enlightenment was confirmation.
My time as editor for the weekly newspaper in Peotone, Illinois led to me publishing my opinion. Of course I got to call it an "editorial". When we moved to Marietta I used to sit in the stands at the baseball fields and get giddy saying under my breath, "No one here knows me. No one here knows my opinons!"
Gave me a new appreciation for politicians. They do not get to have private opinions. They are the folks that have opinions and state them, vote on them, make them into laws.
Based on my experience, I believe it takes a lot of guts to be a politician and I truly believe it is a noble calling with more responsibility than most of us can imagine.
Here in Georgia we have an election on July 22 – how cool to put my opinions into action.

Respect Vs. Love

Love Happens. Respect is Work.
Love starts a relationship. Respect is the glue that holds it together. Happy families, I believe, are more about respect than they are about love. Respect for each person in the family - between parents, between parent and child, and between siblings.
Love gets all the good press because it's above us, beyond us - something tinged with magic and supernatural power. It just happens - romantic love is all about that glance, that moment, that spark. With our children it's that moment when they are placed in our arms. Overwhelming love that just happens - no work to it. So, being outside our control, we place Love on a pedestal and worship it.
Respect - well, in the words of Rodney Dangerfield - it don't get no respect. Why? Because we understand it so very well. There's not even a tad of magic. It's all about thinking and being aware and working and standing your ground and being humble and saying "I'm sorry" or "You let me down" or "I can't do that". It's not shiny and pretty. You can't get it, without giving it. You can't get it, without earning it. Getting it is hard, ugly, dirty work and once you have it - you can still loose it at a moments notice.
Like I said earlier, I believe Happy families are more about respect than they are about love. What do you think?

Just Do It

Mama taught me to crochet when I was in elementary school. I made doll clothes and doll blankets and then when I was sixteen I crocheted my first big project - a bed spread for my double bed. I still have it, although it's really huge and the colors are a little optimistic and sugary (even for me). Mama even crocheted bathing suits for my dolls.
Mama learning to sew is one of my earliest memories. Daddy read the instructions and then helped Mama figure out what to do at our dining room table. Neither of them knew how to sew, but they didn't see a problem with learning as adults. Fifteen or so years later, I canceled the wedding dress I'd just ordered when I drew what I really wanted on a paper bag at work and Mama said she thought we could make it. And we did - exactly what I wanted.
My brothers even sewed sleeping bags for their G.I. Joe's.
Mama ran "The Yarn Barn" from our house. She and her partner would buy yarn in 16 pound hanks down in Dalton, Ga and then sell it in the room Daddy built next to our garage. Daddy invented a machine to wind 4 oz balls of yarn from the 16 lb. hanks. (We got paid to sit and wind the balls.) The 16 lb. hanks would fit around a large, outside sized garbage can turned upside down. The business flourished, until the supply of yarn dried up.
Daddy macrame'd an elaborate hanging bird feeder one time. He rigged it to hang above his easy chair so he could sit there, macrame and watch TV.
And we didn't think any of this was unusual.
Watching my parents taught me if you want to do something - figure it out and do it.
Now that's a legacy.

Freedom to Fail?

Freedom is big around July 4th. But one freedom gets far less play than it deserves.
Freedom to Fail.
Failure has always been a bad word, but seems like its grown bigger and meaner. There's an underlying belief that if we just do all the right things, failure can be kept at bay.
Anti-bacterial hand soap, air bags, insurance, sunscreen, organic food, see-through book bags, metal detectors, on and on and on. Of course we need to manage risk, but when we manage risk to the point that it becomes our purpose?
Throughout scriptures we're told, Fear Not. I don't think God was telling us it was possible to get to a point where fear is wiped out. No, I think he knows our propensity to fear. Our innate ability to focus so much on our fear, that we miss the miracle happening right in front of us.
There is a saying, "What would you do if there was no chance of failure?"
That's the freedom I'm talking about. Freedom to move forward, make changes, live life and put fear in proper perspective.
Freedom from fear. Freedom to fail.
I'm still celebrating Freedom this week - all kinds.

Bugs are My Favorite

Bugs make the best summer music. My summer memories have that high pitched hum of cicadas setting the scene. Right now, my window is open an inch to let in the sound of the bugs enjoying the summer sun. Last night the bugs could be heard through the windows and over the air conditioner hum. A couple years ago we were up in the hills of Tennessee after visiting Ryan at Mt. TOP. When we left that night the bugs were so loud they drowned out the car engine and the radio - and we had the windows up. Ryan says they have campers (usually from up North) ask if there's a way to make the bugs quieter so the campers can sleep.
Listening to the cicadas this morning I noticed the leaves are at their zenith. Full, ripe green. Not innocent, soft Spring green. Not dusty, tinged with color Fall green. But glossy, bossy bold Summer green.
The world is lush and ready and full and hot. The bugs are loving it, and so am I. Join me today in letting summer fill us up. Let the lushness of a season fully ripened flow like peach juice down your arm. This day is a gift straight from God to each one of us.
Such a shame so many will leave it unwrapped.

The "I'm Bored" Trap

Boring and I don't get along. My kids know that - most anything out of their mouth was tolerated better by their mother than, "I'm bored." That just set me off. My immediate response was a job for them to do. (And I always had a job idea for them on the tip of my tongue. Always.) Figured if they were bored, I'd help 'em out. Of course, it also helped me out - so no downside there.
A favorite saying of mine is, "There is no such thing as being bored, there are only boring people."
All this to say that this morning I was on the verge of saying, "I'm bored." Yikes!
Early this morning I dropped Mike off at the airport for a longer than usual work trip, the wedding is over, the 4th of July party is over, nothing new on my book, vacation isn't for a month and a half, pool days have been way plentiful, sooooo----
But I caught myself. Being bored, to me, is the capitulation of my self - physical, mental, & spiritual - to the world. It means I've decided to depend on the outside world for stimulation and when it doesn't meet up to my satisfaction - then, of course, I'm bored.
This capitulation can only be stopped and reversed by sheer will. By putting it back in proper order. Instead of letting the outside stimulate the inside, what is inside me must, must be the impetus, the beginning. A desire for a new knowledge or experience. Creativity growing and needing release. Curiosity allowed to expand, and then be released. Vision cleared and stimulated to see, really see, everything.
The world wants so badly to be our all-in-all, our beginning and our end. But it's a trap - don't fall for it.

They're only on Loan

When the kids were 10, 8 and 6, they boarded a plane with Mike to Philadelphia. Mike, for work, and the kids to spend a week with Nana and Grandad Shostak. I sat at the gate and watched the plane pull away (pre 9/11) and panic began to rise. They were all on that plane. What if something bad happened?
Then God stepped into the panic. What if they have reached the end of their planned time on earth? What if it's time for them to come back to me? What if on the day I gave them to you, I knew it would only be for a short time? Did you do your best? Can you hand them back to me knowing you took care of them as I wanted? That even though their time was short, you helped them become what I envisioned when I first created them?
That stopped the panic cold. Slowly I started breathing and thinking and my head nodded, yes. Yes, I had done my best. Then I gave God permission to be God. Even with my childrens' lives.
We are only loaned our loved ones; they do not belong to us.
I'm just the caretaker God selected to help Robert, Ryan and Lizzy become all he envisioned when he created them. What an amazing, and humbling, honor.