A little thing called purpose

This theme has repeatedly and in a multi-faceted sort of way shown up in my life a lot lately:
Much of what happens is determined by perception.  

For another reference to this same theme, please refer to blog:
http://luckieme-luckieme.blogspot.com/2012/01/sometimes-you-just-need-to-see.html


Last week, I had the privilege of thinking about and discussing how to coach others in finding their purpose.  To be honest, I have thought about little since.

The presenter, a passionate man who has dedicated his life to helping at-risk youth find their purpose, was engaging, knowledgeable, and down to earth in a way that encourages others to be down to earth.
He shared a lot of research about the power of understanding our own purpose and in the belief that no one is without purpose.  (Feel free to check out his website: purposenavigator.com)

But one of my most essential learnings from that day was this, when people perceive they have meaningful purpose, they treat their lives differently.  The perception of one's value to the greater good decreases a whole host of nastiness into which many throw their lives, including drug abuse, criminal behavior, etc.

 It turns out that mattering, really matters.

Of course we all know this on at the deep level, but to see the research supporting it gave me great hope.

 To see oneself as useful, not disposable is powerful. To see others in the same way changes everything.

Living on and with purpose- an everyday miracle of life changing perception.

Convos at the CVS

I stood still and
Pretended to read the cards
But really listened instead to all the jumbled conversations
   of all the jumbled human beings
   in the very orderly aisles
   amongst the straight lines of merchandise at the CVS.

To me some conversations seemed silly, some sad, some were random, everyday chats.

But once, I forgot my quiet mission and
 Found myself eager to engage,
To argue even
When a young man's words echoed past the shampoo...

"Gift cards suck."

three words

I have been in a rather unusual position lately.  I have been able to ask multiple perfect strangers what three words people would use to describe them.

and it got me thinking.

What three words would I want people to use to describe me?

(note, the following list may not be what people would actually say, but rather what I would want them to say...)

1. Earnest

That's it.

At the end of the day, I hope that people would say,
"That Michelle, she is earnest."

To be earnest in my every endeavor, relationship, and encounter- that is what I hope to be.

(oh, the other two words in that list... "super cute". :)

luckie me.

Plain.White. Envelope.

A few days ago a friend of mine handed me a plain white envelope.  Plain, with my name written rather large on the front in printed font.  I took a moment to admire the front of the envelope;  my first thought.... " how does she consistently make even the most workaday thing look elegant?"  My second.....it must be an assignment I missed or something I dropped when I left class. When I looked up at her puzzled, she smiled excitedly.

Oh, a surprise!!!  I love surprises!

I opened the envelope and
out poured a ton of friendship.

           ( I couldn't even look up at first.  I was so overwhelmed by the kindness and concern streaming like giant sun beams out of that little package, I kind of short circuited for a moment.)


I looked around the small classroom and tried to meet the eye of all those whose names were written inside.  I met most and gave a little nod and mouthed thank you before class started.

But,
inside I was thinking about kindness and thoughtfulness and friendship and how lucky I am that I always tend to run into the very best people doing the very best things and, above all  that I am blessed.
(I was also thinking, I must look totally awkward because my face was trying to convey all these emotions at once and may have looked a bit contorted.)

Last year I wrote a blog entry about the power of being seen.  Wednesday night I got to relearn that lesson.

Luckie, luckie me.

Learning what I thought I knew

  The bunny footprints in the snow were perfectly formed.  In my mind's eye, I could picture the little rabbit pausing by the path to listen closely to the forest's sounds.  Or maybe he paused as I had to simply soak in the winter scene (okay, someone can smack me now for the over personification of the poor rabbit.) :)  Either way the prints were delicate, perfect and..... fleeting.   My dog ran through them thirty seconds later
and I started to cry.

 I cried on my knees,
by myself,
in the snow,
in the middle of nowhere
because I learned things this week that I thought I already knew.  Things like the constancy of change, the temporary nature of all things physical, and just how deep love can go.   I have known all these things in my brain for a very long time but now I know them in every cell.  Would I go back and unlearn them if I could? Absolutely.  But my lens has been shifted and in that moment on frosty knees I decided to make the most of this new perspective.

 
I stood up and looked at the mess that only moments before had been the four pretty little prints.

Good Lord, life is messy! ( It is also delicate and beautiful the forest echoed back.)
Good Lord, life is messy.   (It is also full of love whispered the pines.)

The snow bore signs of my struggle and I wondered what the next hiker would think coming upon the scene.

Then I smiled, because like the bunny prints, the remains of my struggle would eventually melt away. The lessons however will not.

Who would have thought that in the end, the everyday miracle would be that every day is a miracle?
I plan to live accordingly and because I care for each of you. I hope you do too.

a little bling

    I have had many teachers in my life.  Some have taught me to read; others, to cope; others, to do my makeup.  But all have been united in one common lesson plan: be grateful.

So.

When I opened up the window on Saturday and it was snowing and I was snuggled, I took a moment and was grateful down to my toes. (After all, I am a good student.)

God must have gotten my message.  

The snow turned to glitter in the afternoon and soon instead of mud and mess, my yard sparkled.  My eyelashes glistened as I walked the dog. My breath outside was the sophisticated exhale of a 1940's movie star.

There is nothing like a little bling to make a girl's day.


(okay, I was wearing cow colored flannels and big boots, but the sparkle was divine!)

Everyday miracles in 2 degrees.


 

Mommer and Me

  This time of year is very emotional for many people and I am no different.  (In fact, to be perfectly honest, I teared up at a Folgers commercial on Thursday.)  There are people in my life who are grieving this Christmas season for loved ones lost recently and for those lost long ago.  Holiday traditions that are different now by necessity not choice can be difficult to establish and maintain when the heart longs for past traditions.
   Yesterday, while baking cookies with my kids, I missed my grandmother, Mommer,  so much that my heart physically hurt.  She has been gone a lot more than a decade now, but in the moments of the batter flying, I could hear her singing very clearly and I missed her profusely. I remembered the days in her kitchen decorating sugar cookies and making a mess; her happy face accented with flour smudges.  My Mommer was more than a grandmother to me, she was the constant in my chaotic and often drama filled childhood.  She taught me to rollerskate and iron shirts. She taught me how to move through tough situations with a song in my head. She taught me to snap green beans and mow grass.  She taught me how to hold my head high when people said terrible things about my family and I. She gave me the best parenting advice I have ever received when my kids were babies.  She loved me unconditionally and specially even though I was one of thirteen grandkids.  She loved each of us that way.  Throughout the years, I have often woke up thinking, I have to ask Mommer about this only to remember when I was fully awake that I could only do that in my dreams.
  Last night, as I was cleaning up my own cookie mess in my own kitchen, I worked to reframe my missing her and also to come to grips with the enormity of the struggle for those working to reframe larger and more recent losses.  I wish my reframe would have ended in some profound miracle salve for the heart that I could hand out in little boxes with big bows. But it didn't.
   Here is the everyday miracle that I finally landed on.  The everyday miracle is that I was blessed to have Mommer in my life. She made me a better person, mother and friend. I see her influence in my life everyday. I got to hold her hand and now I hold that memory tight. 

  Sending a little box with a big bow to those who need it this Christmas season.  Trying to live as a blessing in the lives of those around me. Everyday miracles in cookie batter and chocolate chips.