A Parable of Bert the Bat

It was on a beautiful Saturday afternoon that I met Bert as I was putting away garden tools. Much to my surprise (and fear), I saw him hanging next to the wooden workbench in our garage. Our garage! A bat! IN OUR GARAGE!

I'm generally a "live and let live" kind of person when it comes to creepy, crawly, furry, funny creatures. But I was not completely comfortable with a bat hanging in my garage. But I was less comfortable with the thought of poking the little guy and having him flap his bat-wings in my face on the way out of the garage. So I left him alone.

Facebook feedback from knowledgeable bat-lovers let me know that Bert may be endangered and that I shouldn't move him. That he was hibernating but would leave when he wakes up. And that when he woke up, he and his bat-friends would help keep the insect population down.

But after weeks of watching Bert hang in his stoic sleep I began to wonder if his sleep was, actually, lifeless. So, I sent one of my aforementioned bat-loving friends into the garage to investigate. The sad report was that Bert was dead. And had been for some time.

As I was plucking Bert off the wall with my long handled bat-remover (also known as a trash picker) the following Saturday, it struck me as funny. Not that Bert was dead, but what an interesting range of emotions I experienced over what was ultimately a dead animal. I feared him. I worked to get over that fear. I spent time checking on him. I worried about him so much that I had to get a friend involved to assess his health. And it got me thinking...what things occupy the garages of my life that I waste  energy and emotion on? And how many of those things are already dead and should just be plucked off the wall and left in the woods outside my life?

My 3 Words - 2013 Edition

This is my third year in the "3 Words" world. Chris Brogan talks a lot about selecting three words with which to theme the year. Instead of a list of resolutions that will surely be broken by January 15, finding three words or themes for the year provide a fluidity to life with a some basis for grounded decision making.

I selected three words for the first time in 2011 - connect, share, ship. These words impacted my behavior and resulted in some fascinating experiences that I may take the time to blog about some day. In 2012, my words were breathe, flow, move. And 2012 turned out to be a wonderful year to let go a bit more, pick my battles more carefully and spend more time filling my heart with ideas.

And so, I thougtht I would be addressing 2013 with fresh confidence and vigor. Instead, I struggled with my three words. The first one, Courage, came very easily. The second word was forced and subsquently thrown out, but not before my husband gave me my third word - Decisive. Not shortly after being called to be more decisive, did I change my second word to Improv. See why:

Courage - My 2012 Steve Jobs wall calendar exclaimed to me,"Have the courage to follow your heart and your intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become." So in 2013 I will have the courage to take steps I need to take - over, around or through the roadblocks I or others may put in my way.

Improv - Not 'improve' although I hope to always be doing that. Improv as in Improvisational Theater where most of the action is created at the moment it is performed, with little or no pre-planning. For me, the key is being in the moment and building upon it. It's about 'Yes and' instead of 'No because'. This will be quite a stretch for me.

Decisive - My husband very quickly came to my aid with this word when I told him I was struggling. And I struggled with taking on someone else's interpretation of my words, even though my husband knows me better than anyone else. So in the car one dark morning on the way to work, I embraced this word and it is the one I believe will challenge me the most. I want to continue to see the possibilities and arrange the pieces, but most of all I want to make concrete decisions, lead boldly and from a place of honesty.

I would love to hear your three words if you have them. And would certainly welcome you inquiring about mine throughout the year.

Ski = Breathe + Smile

Dream Book Entry: 07.24.10 Downhill Ski
I started a dream book a few years back to capture my ideas about how to suck the marrow out of life. I had read the Dream Manager and used its' dream categories as a catalyst. Interestingly, the Adventure dream category has the most items. On July 24, 2010 I added downhill skiing to my adventure list and on January 15, 2012 my husband and I hit the slopes of Vail for the first time.

Ski School Graduates
When I envisioned skiing on a real mountain, I underestimated just exactly how tall and steep real mountains are. I had been to Colorado in my youth, but obviously my childhood memories hadn't contemplated flying down those hills with carbon fiber slats on my feet. And to amplify my surprise, it was pointed out that I was only seeing the bottom third of the mountain. Huh.

Fortunately, our ski-savvy friends suggested I apply to ski school and acquaint myself with the mountain under the tutelage of an experienced instructor. So I spent my first three days in ski school learning how to traverse the slopes with the grace and ease of a frozen, overweight giraffe. The details of ski school warrant their own blog, but suffice it to say that I graduated with the basics: proper form (shoulders facing downhill, body leaning forward over skis), speed control (wide turning radius=slower speed) and stopping (if all else fails, snowplow).

Sometimes the Basics Are More Basic
It was the last day of ski school when we had begun to tackle larger sections of the mountain and upgraded to some blue slopes that I realized the best form was no substitute for the simplicity of breathing. At the end of each perpendicular cut across the slope, I was faced with the reality of having to turn - body and skis facing full out down the hill - in order to continue to the bottom of the run. It was in those moments, that a deep breath was the perfect form. As I learned, breathing relaxes the muscles, shifts focus and engenders a feeling of confidence (albeit short lived). As I ventured out to ski alone later in the week, I was able to find a beautiful, balanced skiing rhythm - breathe, turn, breathe, turn - and I felt powerful and free.

It was during my second solo run that I thought, "This is fun! I should smile!" Not because anyone could see me smile under 17 layers of fleece and gortex, but because it changed my attitude from grunting determination not to fall (again) to grateful appreciation - of the beauty of God's creation, the opportunity to check something off my dream list and the surprise of finding yet another activity my husband and I can enjoy. Oh, and did I mention, it's stinking FUN!

Skiing Is Still On My List
My skiing adventure is not over. While it might be checked off my dream list as a point-in-time activity, the experience taught me a bit about myself and about life. I get a little scared sometimes, but not paralyzed from action. I'm patient to a point, but won't let my forward progress be stalled by others. I recognize I have limits, but don't shy away from the challenge to push past them. So, I've checked "Downhill ski" from my dream list, but added it to my list of lifelong interests and plan to ski again some day soon.

My 3 Words - 2012 Edition

Last year, I read a blog post by Chris Brogan about selecting three words with which to theme the year. Instead of a list of resolutions that will surely be broken by January 15, finding three words or themes for the year provide a fluidity to life with a some basis for grounded decision making.

I selected three words for the first time in 2011 - connect, share, ship. These words impacted my behavior and resulted in some fascinating experiences that I may take the time to blog about some day. But today is a day to look forward. To 2012. So, after much thought (okay, not really much thought because I'm more of an intuitive decision maker) I have selected my three words for 2012:

Breathe - I will breathe. In and out. In and out. Deeply. Thoughtfully. Meditating. Focusing. And when things get tense, as I'm sure they will, I will breathe. And I will not be the loudest contributor to the stress because I will stop to breathe. In and out. In and out. 

Flow - I will go with it. I will pick my battles and gain momentum in the things that are really important and not lose energy to the things that aren't. I will make a lasting, positive, beautiful impression in the places that I've been and people that I've encountered. Not a raging river cutting an aggressive path through the wilderness, but a strong, powerful, constant, positive force making it's own gentle path.

Move - Physically, emotionally and mentally. I will progress, not to the point where others think I should be, but to where I am called. I will take action and move from my "idea brain" to my "action brain" without fear of failure. I will find in each move what kind of person I am and what kind of potential I have.

For those of you who DON'T know me may read my three words and be unimpressed. How hard can it be, really, to breath and go with the flow and move. For those of you who DO know me, you understand just how high I've set my sights. And I appreciate in advance, your help in keeping me honest to my three words and supporting me as I live them.

The Sexiest Man Alive

You're probably thinking, "oh man, she's going to blog about her husband." Fortunately for you (and probably him too), I'm not - even though I think he is.

When standing in line at the grocery too long, I am prone to those spontaneous purchases that leave me wondering a few hours later why I spent 5 good dollars on 'fill in your favorite frivolous thing'. This week it was the Sexiest Man Alive issue of People magazine. I held my emotional purchase in check until I turned to the page that cast Mayhem as the Sexiest GPS Alive.

You know, Mayhem. The Allstate Insurance spokesman. The one that impersonates a raccoon, a blind spot and now the Sexiest GPS Alive. Yes, I fell for it hook, line and sinker. Not because I think he is the sexiest GPS ever (I'm still holding out for one that sounds like Sean Connery), but because I was drawn in by what our society considers sexy - great hair, piercing eyes, good grooming habits, lover of animals/the opposite sex/their mom.

Very little is mentioned of honor, integrity, honesty or a deep love of people. Not that the sexiest guys selected by People don't possess those qualities. They just aren't the qualities that make for stable editorial jobs. The whole notion of sexy is succiently summarized on the two-page spread that announces what sexy looks like at every age - from Tyler Posey (age 20) to Liam Neeson (age 59) and a face for every year in between.

And I'm left wondering if we really believe Mayhem's ad copy:
"He might not know where he's going. But we still want to ask for directions. Recalculating? Yes, please!"

Personally, I'd like to get directions from the one who knows the way.

Pack Light, Move Fast, Go In A Familiar Direction

I'm one of those people who remembers her dreams. You know, like my starring role in Arctic Alligators where mutant alligators have migrated to the snowy Canadian mountaintops sliding down the hills beneath the snow like Jaws skimming the ocean until the fateful moment that even the best skiers can't escape. That's normal, right? I mean the remembering my dreams part.

Anyway, when I'm struggling with something I often get insights from my dreams. I know volumes have been written on dream interpretation and I'm certainly no expert in the matter. In fact, other than figuring out what it means to dream about my teeth falling out (because that really did freak me out), I don't formally study the matter. Instead, I let my dreams speak into my intuition. I'd say call me crazy, but if you read the first paragraph, you'd already know that I am.

Since most of my dreams are crazy abstractions, the occasional realistic one really makes me take notice. So the other night, when I drempt I was in an abusive relationship it was startling. I never saw my abuser and I didn't have any visible marks. All I had was this internal drive to get away. And as I moved through my nocturnal environment, three things kept playing over and over in my mind: pack light, move fast and go in a familiar direction. It was the last part that felt like the answer I'd been waiting for.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to escape an abusive relationship. But I have felt very stuck in one area of my life for quite some time. And  I'm not necessarily following my dream's advice on any point. Yet. But there is freedom in giving myself permission to pack light and move fast. And it was a permission thing because I'm loyal to a fault, can be overly optimistic and bounce back with a vengance when people express doubt with my abilities. That by packing light, I don't have to carry burdens that aren't my own. And by moving fast, I'm not letting people down by not having a well thought-out plan that takes care of everyone else.

But the twist is to go in a familiar direction. When contemplating a life change, I am gripped with the fear of the unkown. And how unknown the unknown seemed. But it hadn't crossed my mind that I didn't have to go somewhere wholly unknown. I can go somewhere that is familiar but different. Wow. From a dream. Huh.

What's in Your Bag?

I've played softball since before I could walk. Okay, probably not that long. But when you're playing a championship softball game at midnight on a 'school' night and realize that some of the folks you've played with off and on for years are, in fact, 47 years old then you've played softball for a LONG time.

And when you've played that long, you grow very accustomed to your equipment - glove, batters glove, bat, etc. But for me, once I left the world of competitive fast pitch softball the one piece of equipment I've never grown accustomed to is my bat - or bats. I've carried two bats around in my bag for years, but was convinced that they weren't as good as my teammates' bats. So, for years I've used other people's bats leaving my sad-excuse-for-a-hitting-implement tucked safely away in my bag. I must have had a good reason for not using the bats that I own - like they don't hit well :) - but I can't remember.

Because of the amount of rain outs early this season, our champship games ended up being played in July, so a few of our bats were on vacation. As our team piled in the dugout, it became obvious that the beautiful, dirty orange bat that I usually use out of the office with no access to email. In fact, several of our bats decided to take a leave that week. I was faced with a choice. Roll the dice with a new, unknown bat or dig my two sluggers out of my bag.

Determined to use my own bat to make a stronger case for buying a new $300 powerhouse, I hung both my little, fast pitch bat and big, slugging slow pitch bat on the fence. Upon seeing my bats, one of my teammates literally commented on their vintage. Yeah, I know.

But you know what, I hit better that night with my big, slugging slow pitch bat than I usually hit with any other bat. Call it coincidence? Maybe. But the thing that crossed my mind is how often I long for and try to use other people's stuff instead of celebrating and using my own. I mean, how many times have I wanted 'her job' or 'his intelligence' or 'her creativity'. And really, I'm a masterpiece in my own right. Uniquely made by the Creator of the universe. With my own set of mad skills and talents. As we each are. So I challenge you (and me) today to celebrate yourself and ask God to show you you. How He made you. What He called you to do. What He has gifted and blessed you with already. What's in your bag?