Facing My Fears

Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?  I did something on Saturday night that was a big learning experience and turning point for me.  I spoke in front of many, many people.  I am not sure if there were 60, 80, 100 people or more.  Here is the background:  I was asked by a leader in my church if I would speak in a religious conference and share my experience of my recent conversion.  I gladly accepted.  I had almost a month to prepare a five minute talk.  I was surprised at how calm I felt the weeks leading up to the day.  I felt more nervous as the day neared.  I stayed up very late the night before practicing my talk.  The day came, I went to work, came home, and my nerves were very high.  As we arrived, we were quite early, and I couldn’t even sit down.  I even walked into a table because I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going (my husband and I had a good chuckle about that).  I saw another leader of my church, and he asked me how I was doing.  I can’t remember what I said exactly, but I know that my face had a big grin, but wide eyes said, “I am very, very scared.”  He said very warmly, “Don’t worry… You are among friends.”  What a nice thing to say.  I remembered those words leading up to my turn to speak.  My time came.  I got up, approached the podium, and I could see that microphone staring me down.  I began to speak, and after I got through the first few sentences, I felt so much better.  I had felt that I truly was “among friends.”  I am happy to report that it went so well.  I made people laugh, and the best part was that there were parts I didn’t expect for people to laugh, but when they did, it felt great.  There were parts of my talk that were more serious, and I could feel people listening.  After the conference was done, I had so many people come up to me, shake my hand and thank me for my words.  The conference continued the next morning.  The same man who asked me to speak the night before was going to be speaking that day, and he asked if he could share a story which I had shared in church a few weeks before.  I told him he could.  His topic was about forgiveness.  I had forgiven a girl who was very mean to me when we were younger, and I feel so much better for it.  I was able to see that she was mean to me because her life was so hard, and I, for one reason or another, was an easy target.  She was hurting, so she hurt me.  Since she hurt me, I really did not like her.  As I got older, I thought I was over it, and didn’t care anymore, but I had realized that these past few years I actually hadn’t truly forgiven her, until recently.  I hope that my story being shared on Sunday may have helped others.  I hope that my words spoken the day before had touched people’s hearts.  It made me feel good that after the conference was over on Sunday, people were telling me how they liked my talk the day before.  One girl even said, “I liked it so much, I thought about you the whole way home.”  Those words made me feel so good inside.

You may be wondering why I am talking so much about this talk I did this last weekend?  That is because last year I was diagnosed with “Social Anxiety Disorder”.  I may talk in further detail about this at another time.  There is a very W-I-D-E range of explanations for what Social Anxiety means, and it effects each person differently, but one of the things for me is that in some cases I really worry about what other people think, especially if I make mistakes.  Can you imagine how it felt for me to speak in front of all those people?  Oh, and I forgot to mention that I slipped up on a few words in the very beginning, too!  By going through my nervousness, and getting through my talk, it gave me more confidence.  I had faced my fears, and in return have received more courage.  I am learning to be grateful for my trials and burdens because I have noticed in recent times that by trying to stay positive, there are times when those trials and burdens can turn into blessings.  They have made me stronger.  For instance, there have been times that my fears, by facing them, have turned into my bravest moments.  I am not sure if  I would consider myself to be a brave person, but I have had moments of my own personal bravery.  In giving my talk, I got to meet a lot of wonderful people.  There are a few people who I know I will always remember, even if I don’t see them again. 

Happy Tuesday to you and yours… 

Father's

Thank you for reading this blog.  I feel bad that I didn't get it out in the morning, but I feel good that I am here writing it now.  It is a beautiful day today, and I am so happy to be able to sit down and write my thoughts.

This last Sunday was Father's Day.  I couldn't help but think of my dad and the things I remember most about my childhood with him.  I am very thankful because my dad spent a lot of time with me and my sisters growing up.  He would play catch with us, he would rebound for us and play basketball games with us.  My dad loves fishing, and he would bring us on camping and fishing trips.  As a little girl, I got bored very quickly with fishing, but my favorite part of the trips were the evenings.  We would eat dinner, sit around the campfire, and my dad would tell stories.  I would beg him to tell the same stories, and we only heard them on our camping trips.  By the way, my dad is a great storyteller.  

I have just a few memories that are sticking out in my head right now, and I would like to share them and reflect on how they made me feel in the moment and now.  This first memory is when I was a little girl my dad started a game.  I am not sure if it was just him and me who did this, or if it was with my sisters, too, but every summer evening we would wait for the moon to make it's appearance.  Whoever noticed it first would say, "My moon", and the moon would be theirs for the evening.  I now live in an area where due to the weather I don't get to see the moon as often as when I was a child.  On clear nights, when the moon is so bright, I look up and in my heart I say, "My moon".

A second memory I have with my dad is that he would play catch with me and my sisters.  My sisters and I played softball, and my dad would throw us pop flies to catch.  We would do this for hours.  As we got older we would ask him to throw the ball higher, and I remember telling him, "Make me run for it!"  I loved catching a fly ball on the run.  It made me feel so good.  I remember the first time my dad brought home a wiffle ball and bat.  I was very young, and I never played T-ball.  I learned to hit the ball from that little ball and bat.  I remember one of the first pitches my dad threw to me; I hit it so hard that it grazed by the top of his ear!  He laughed so hard because he could feel it graze by his head!  I played softball on a team from when I was in second grade to eighth grade.  My eighth grade year, I knew it was my last year.  I did not want to play in high school, although I was good enough to where I could have.  I remember I was playing in my very last game, and there was a pop fly.  I was playing third base, and when you are in the infield, you have first dibs on any fly balls.  I ran back, back, and back, and I caught the ball and ran into the fence!  I made the winning catch!  I knew that I had ended my softball career on the best note possible by catching a fly ball that I was so familiar with.  I was so glad that my dad was there at that game.

My last memory I want to share is when I was six years old.  My dad and members of our extended family built the first house I lived in.  When I was six years old, my parents sold the house, and we moved.  My dad and I were the last one's to leave the house.  As we were approaching the end of the driveway, I said, "Dad, Stop!"  He stopped the truck.  I jumped out, and I went down to the patch of field that was stepping distance from our driveway (that could be seen from the kitchen window).  My sisters and I have a lot of fun childhood memories playing there.  After jumping out of my dad's truck, I made my way in the field, under an old oak tree, and I picked up a rock.  I walked back to my dad's truck, hopped in, and said, "I wanted something to remember this place by."  My dad didn't say a word, and we drove away.  My dad was amazed at how I was only six years old, and I was thinking in those terms.  He still remembers that, and so do I.  

In the spirit of Father's Day, I hope my reminiscing about my father may stoke the embers of loving memories with your father's (or father figures in your life).

Thanks for these wonderful memories, Dad.  Happy Father's Day, and I love you.

Happy Tuesday to you and yours....

A little delay until tonight....

Hello Blogging People.... 

This morning got away from me... and I don't have time to write my blog until tonight.  Please stay tuned, and this will hopefully be my only "Tuesday Evenings with Me".  Maybe one of my blogs coming up should be about how it is okay to not be perfect?

Thank you for your understanding, and I hope you will enjoy my blog tonight. :)  I have something I have been thinking about for the past few days, and I look forward to writing it...

Until this evening! :)

Small Delights

Hello and Happy Tuesday!  If you haven't noticed already, I am writing this mornings post in the wee hours of the night (still being officially Tuesday Morning!).  This Tuesday is a very, very busy one ahead of me, so that is why I am writing this post after midnight (then off to bed I go!).  

This Tuesday I want to talk about taking pleasure in small delights.  I have been able to spend time with my nephew the past few days, and I am amazed at how much he has grown and how much he has learned.  It made me smile watching him.  He took such delight in the simplest of things.  I would look at him and put my hair in his face, and he would giggle... then wait for me to do it again.  He played in a large public fountain area with a lot of other little kids, and after everyone else was done, he would look back at us, smile, giggle and splash some more.  It makes me think about my life.  Today I thought to myself, "Am I taking as much pleasure in the little things in my life?"  I want to sketch out more time for me to read my book outside while sitting on my patio furniture... I want to go to the beach and just sit there and take in the power and serenity of the crashing waves in the ocean... I want to have more special planned dinner-for-two meals with my husband... just because.  I want to be able to realize in the moment how many wonderful moments I have in all my days.  This is another goal I want to set for myself.  How about you?  Are you with me?

Happy Tuesday to you and yours...

Pride

I have been sitting at my desk, staring at this computer screen for about ten minutes, and just "blank" about what I want to write.  It's like there is a Rolodex in my mind, and every time I think about something I want to write, I would say, "Nah, not that.  Nope, not that one either.  Maybe that one next week."  As I was looking about the room, my eyes fell upon my college diploma hanging on my wall.  I decided I want to talk about that.   

Remember in my last post I talked about gratitude?  There is something that I have always felt grateful for during my college career since "Day 1".  I have felt extremely grateful for the fact that I was able to go to college.  Even as a college freshman, I recognized how lucky I was to be living in the country I live, and living in the time frame I live in.  I live in a country where anyone can get an education.  I live in a country where even if you don't have the money, you can pay back the money when you are all finished.  I live in a country where a woman can get an education.  I remember walking on campus my first year of college and feeling privileged to be there.  I thought of the women in our history who had made so many sacrifices in their lives for their rights, and the rights of their fellow sisters, and future daughters.  I felt so free.

As time went on, I had to remind myself of those feelings.  There were some semesters that were incredibly difficult, and it seemed like I wasn't even getting close to graduating.  There was one time I was driving, and I thought to myself, "I feel like I am going to be a Junior forever."  I felt like becoming a Senior was never going to happen, and that I would never graduate.  I actually had the serious thought about quitting school.  I was very fed up with a lot of it.  It was such hard work: I was working and going to school, both full time, and I was commuting everywhere.  I was feeling very sorry for myself.  I was having a big pity party.  As I was driving, a memory came flooding back to me.  I remember in my first year of college, I went to my grandparents house for dinner one Sunday night.  These are the same grandparents from my first posting.  It was just me and my grandma and my grandpa.  My grandpa was talking to me and we were still sitting at the dinner table.  He told me how proud he was of me that I was going to school.  He said how proud he was of all his grand kids who had gone to school and finished, the ones who were currently in school, and for the ones who were planning on attending after high school (we are talking about a lot of grandchildren).  As he said this, I remember him saying, "I am so proud of you."  As he was saying all of this, I took notice that he was getting misty eyed and choked up.  This stuck out in my mind because I was not expecting this at all.  Now, fast forward to me back in my car on my drive, contemplating quitting college.  I thought about my grandpa.  He lived in a time where if someone wanted to get a college education, they had to pay for it all themselves.  There were no student loans.  My grandpa worked very hard all of his life and did not have the opportunity to go to college.  He expressed how great it was that people can now go to school and pay it back through loans.  My grandpa lost his father to pneumonia as a young child (being six or seven years old), and his dear mother never remarried.  It was just him, his brother, and his mom.  My grandpa started working at a very young age.  He was also incredibly bright.  He even skipped the second grade.  So, as I am contemplating this, I thought, "Here was a man who would have loved to go to college, but he lived in a time where it was very hard to.  He also lived in a time where a war started, and I'm sure that made it even more difficult.  And, here I am, thinking about quitting because it is hard."  I realized that he was a strong motivator and inspiration to me.  As the years went on in my college career, and I experienced more hardship, I would remember that particular memory and think about my grandpa and his life.  I thought about him many-a-night when I wanted to give up on an assignment or a project, and I found the motivation to complete it.  I wish I could thank him for his example and our Sunday dinner talk that one night.  Since he has passed on, I will thank him right here... Grandpa, thank you for saying you were proud of me.  Those words have stuck with me through these years and have motivated me to live my dream, and it has taught me not to give up.  I got my diploma.  It hangs on my wall, and many-a-time, I look at it, I think of you.  I thank you for your inspiration and love.

As time went on, I found support and inspiration from others around me as well: My husband, my family, my friends, my co-workers.  I finally finished and graduated in May of 2009.  There were a lot of people graduating, and I learned that our graduating class was the largest most diverse class the university had ever had.  I felt proud.  While sitting at my graduation, I remember sitting next to a nice girl.  She said something that made me think.  She said, "With so many people graduating, it makes me feel less special... like anyone can do it."  I thought about what she said, and I disagreed.  I thought about how wonderful it was to see so many people graduating.  It is a dream come true for so many, not just the graduates, but for the loved ones of the graduates as well.  I remember throughout my college career thinking how getting a degree would get me a really great paying job.  I also happened to graduate when our country was in a deep recession.  I then realized how my degree was not something I wanted to use to get a job.  It meant so much more to me then that.  It meant that I proved to myself that I could finish something I put my mind to.  It meant that no matter what happens in my life, no one, nothing, can ever take my education away from me.  It is mine.  I earned it.  I treasure it.

There is a quote that I remember from a great movie, "A League of Their Own".  Tom Hanks is a coach of an all girls baseball team during WWII.  The best player leaves the team when the season is not quite done because her husband comes home from the war.  The coach asks her why she is leaving when the season is almost over?  She replies, "It just got too hard."  He replies with, "It's supposed to be hard.  If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it.  The hard is what makes it great."  I apply that to my life in regards to how I feel about getting my college degree.  It was a long journey, but I am glad I did it.  My sister gave me a card for my graduation with a quote from Lao Tse, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one single step."  That can be applied to anyone in their life endeavors. 

I know that the word "pride" can be used in both good and bad contexts.  I want this post to sound "prideful" in the best most positive sense of the word.  May we all be proud of our accomplishments.  For me it is my degree, but for others it can be completely different things.  Maybe you set your mind to learn something and completed it.  Maybe you have a wonderful skill that you have harnessed and now you can share it with others. Maybe you want to learn something new and you are just beginning. 

May we all be proud of ourselves and feel good about who we are, where we live, and the lives we lead.

Happy Tuesday to you and yours...

Attitude of Gratitude

Have you ever really sat down and counted your blessings?  I wonder how our days would be if we all started them out by counting our blessings instead of counting our 'To-Do Lists'.  I want to share a few stories with you about gratitude (and sadly, one of them is a story about a lack there of).

The first story is something I witnessed over the weekend.  I work at a luxurious boutique hotel, and part of my job is checking people into their rooms.  I was working with my manager who was about to check in a couple.  The young man said he had a reservation, but my manager did not see his name on the list of arrivals.  The man was very nice and very patient.  He looked at his iPhone to look at his confirmation letter.  He said, "Oh No.... I made the reservation for tomorrow night.  This is my fault.  Do you have any rooms for tonight?"  My manager felt bad because we were completely sold out.  Before my manager could tell him that we would be glad to find them a room along the coast for the evening, this man's wife did something that really made me sad.  In front of us, she said something to her husband.  She said it in a way that was part serious, part sarcastic, part making her husband feel bad.  She said, "This is why I do all the planning for our trips."  After she said this, my manager found him a reservation at another really nice hotel, and we told him that we hope to see him in the future.  He was so grateful for my managers kindness.  What made me so irritated was his wife and her attitude.  For the sake of argument, I am going to try and put myself in her shoes.  Here goes..............

............ I show up to a very nice looking hotel.  My husband and I are very excited and have been looking forward to this for quite some time.  The weather is great, and I'm happy to be there.  I find out that my husband made a mistake and accidentally booked the room for tomorrow night instead of tonight, and the really beautiful hotel did not have a room for us. I can see that my husband feels bad (and probably a little embarrassed)......  Okay, now pause here for a moment................... I really, truly feel that if this were me, I would have laughed and made the best of the situation.  I would not have been upset with him or made him feel bad (or try to embarrass him in front of strangers to make it known who exactly made the error).  I know that before the trip, on the way, and when we showed up, and even after finding out the mishap, I would have thought, "Wow, my husband is so cool because he looked at THIS place online, and wanted to bring me here.  That is very sweet and thoughtful, and I am grateful." 

I am not trying to say this to make me sound better than this woman, but I came home, told my husband, and I expressed how sad this woman made me for her husband.  She truly irritated me.  After the irritation was over, I thought about how grateful she should have been.  I told myself, "If I am ever in this type of situation, I hope that I will be positive, look on the bright side, and make my husband feel better and not bad or embarrassed."

My other story is something that I found on youtube (seriously, I love youtube!  What ever did we do without it before?  Anytime we miss something on TV, we can catch up later with it on youtube).  I found an older video of a talk that was given by the leader of my church.  He said the words, "Attitude of Gratitude" (Does that sound familiar? My title for this wonderful Tuesday!)  These three words really resonated with me.  I think about the word "gratitude" a lot.  You see... I have the potential to look at my life and say, "I wish I had.... I wish I could be.... I wish things were......."  but, for the most part, I really don't.  Of course I have my moments when I wish for things, but now, I try to live in a state of mind that says, "I have it really, really good."  I have a roof over my head.  I have a job I like.  Even more importantly, I have a husband, and a family, who I love very much.  I have wonderful friends who I love very much.  I live in a country where, being a woman, I can walk down the street all by myself (not needing to be accompanied by a man).  I can do as I please.  I can drive wherever and whenever I'd like.  I have so many wonderful freedoms.  Especially being the day after Memorial Day, I was thinking about all the service men and women (past, present, and future) who put their lives on the line every day so that I can do such things and live such a life of true luxury.  For these things I feel such gratitude.  These are some things I feel grateful for, and the list goes on and on. 

I remember last year, I was having a hard time calming my mind down and going to sleep.  When I expressed this to my mom one day, she told me that counting her blessings before she falls asleep has helped her.  That reminded me of my favorite Christmas movie of all time: "White Christmas".  One of the great songs in this movie is "Count your blessings (instead of sheep)".  The first part of that song goes like this:

When I'm worried and I can't sleep

 I count my blessings instead of sheep

 And I fall asleep counting my blessings

 When my bankroll is getting small

 I think of when I had none at all

 And I fall asleep counting my blessings

When I was going through youtube, and found the leader of my church talking about an "Attitude of "Gratitude", I stumbled across another video.  This is the previous leader of my church who passed away a few years ago.  He recalls a story that his father once told him, and it really touched my heart.  I put the link at the bottom of this post (to watch it, I think just by clicking on it, it should pop up).  I hope you all can watch it and enjoy it.  What is really great about this story is that you don't have to be of my faith to understand it.  This story can be related to anyone and everyone.  It's a story about two young boys walking down a road one afternoon and the lesson they learned.

Happy Tuesday to you and yours...

http://youtu.be/naqX9iYE0V0

My Something Old and Something Borrowed

Since in my last post I was reminiscing about my grandfather, I have been thinking more and more about my family... the ones here... and the ones passed.  I have a story I'd like to share about how I got to my decision of the something old and something borrowed I would wear for my wedding day.

To start off with, I have to admit that I really had a great time in the planning process of my wedding.  I won't lie... some things did cause stress, but for the most part, I loved it.  My husband cracks me up when he tells people, "You know... these things just plan themselves."  If any of you have heard him say this, you can just rest assured that he had a big hand in planning our wedding, and he loved it, too!  Don't let him fool you that all he did was just "show up".  He cracks me up. 

So, back to my story.  I want to shed a little background.  I have a great-grandmother who I do not remember.  I met her only once, and I was only two weeks old.  From descriptions and stories I've heard shared mostly by my mother and grandmother, my great-grandmother sounds like she was a wonderful, wonderful woman.  She sounds loving, caring, nurturing...  She sounds like she was a loving wife, mother, grandmother, friend... She sounds like she never wanted to be the center of attention, but that she had a great sense of humor.  She sounds like someone who if I heard them described to me, I would want to be their friend...

 While my mother was expecting with me, my great-grandmother got very sick.  The diagnosis was cancer.  With my birth soon approaching, her condition worsened.  My mother recalled to me that when my great-grandmother realized that she would not be around long after I was born, her concern was about my dad.  You see, my mom had a scheduled cesarean with me, and would be laid up for awhile.  With this concern my great-grandmother had about my dad, she asked, "Who is going to take care of him and do his laundry?"  How sweet, sad, and (pardon me), hilarious.  Here she was, terminally ill, and she was worried about my dad and his clean clothes.  That story always made me sad, but it also brought a smile to my face.  What an incredible woman to still be thinking of others before herself when she was in such a state.  As time went by, I was born, and thankfully my great-grandmother was still alive.  I had a bad case of jaundice, so I had to stay in the hospital for a longer period of time.  Once I was able to come home, I was brought to see my great-grandmother.  My mother has told me that she remembers her holding me and talking to me, but that her voice was so weak that my mom could barely make out what she was saying.  Very shortly afterward (possibly within days), my great-grandmother passed away.  My mother tells me that my great-grandmother waited for me before she left us.  This thought has always made an impression on my mind and in my heart.  I marveled  that this wonderful woman in my life hung onto her life, even when it was painful, just to see me... me... little old me.  I always felt a connection with her.  I have tried to live my life in a way that would have hopefully made her "waiting for me" worth it.  I feel like I know her, even though I don't remember her.  I once told my mother, "I didn't even know her," and she responded, "She knew you..."

Fast forward to about two years ago.  My husband and I are engaged, and our wedding day is soon approaching.  Everything is falling into place, and we feel very good about the planning.  There was only one thing I was completely stumped on.... I had no idea of what to wear for my something old and something borrowed.  I remember one day I was visiting with my mother at her home.  We were having a really great time.  Then, I asked her for a suggestion of what to where for my something old and something borrowed.  Guess what?  She was stumped, too...  Then, in just a few moments of silence, both of us just wracking our brains, we both shot a look at each other that said, "I GOT IT!"  For another moment we were silent, but just staring at each other with big eyes.  It was truly at the SAME MOMENT.  I told her, "What are you thinking?"  She asked, "What are you thinking?"  I asked, again, and so did she.  I bit the bullet and told her that I had a thought about borrowing my great-grandmother's wedding ring which she has.  I was nervous asking this question because it is something very precious, and I would have understood if my mother felt uncomfortable with the idea.  Instead, she SHOT UP out off the couch, scurried into her room, and brought out a green box.  She gave me the ring to try on, and she told me that she had the SAME THOUGHT at the SAME TIME I DID.  I tried it on my right ring finger (but already knowing it would fit because I used to try it on when I was in high school, and it fit like a glove then, and it still did).  When I heard that we had the same thought at the same exact time, I said, "She must be here and really wants me to wear it."  My mom told me that she would be tickled pink if she knew I was wearing her wedding ring on my wedding day.  This whole experience made my heart swell.  Then, my mom (for kicks) showed me another  wedding ring.  It belonged to my great-grandmother's sister.  We got a really good laugh because, although it is gorgeous, the band is HUGE!  It was completely loose around my thumb!  She must have had very big hands.  But, the setting on this ring (she was my great-great aunt) was to die for!  It is a setting that most girls these days would go Ga-Ga for.  So, even though we laughed about the size of the band (and it was purely a laughter of love), I guess you could say that the joke was on us.  This still makes me laugh................  I also remember laughing in that moment and thinking to myself, "If they could both be here right now, I hope they would be having as much fun as we were having."

Fast forward to my wedding day.  It was fantastic, and I got to wear my great-grandmother's wedding ring.  One last memory I want to share.  It was the morning I got married.  I woke up early, went outside and looked over the ocean.  I thought about all the people who I have loved in my life who are not physically with us in body.  I knew they would be apart of our day in spirit.  This brought great comfort to me.

Thank you for reading.  After writing this blog, it makes me feel very fortunate and grateful for the wonderful family and friends in my life.  I hope you all enjoyed accompanying me on my trip down memory lane...

Happy Tuesday to you and yours...