Author: stephsimply

Cultivating Compassion in a Clamorous World

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“Your work is not to drag the world kicking and screaming into a new awareness.  Your job is to simply do your work . . .sacredly, secretly, silently . . .and those with ‘eyes to see and ears to hear’ will respond.”–Unknown

A row of shopping carts with red seats lined up in a parking area, creating a visual of retail readiness.
Photo by Ulrick Trappschuh on Pexels.com

A Quiet Act of Compassion 🤫

I was recently in a local dollar store. There was a person checking out that was $5.00 short of the total amount needed to pay their bill.  The clerk patiently waited while the person checking out asked their companion if they had cash on them. When the companion did have any cash, the clerk quietly offered to give the person the $5.00 stating, “I know what it’s like to come up short when it comes to money.”

This act of unpretentious compassion remained with me for days. The clerk was not doing it for recognition, she spoke too discreetly for that. If I had not been nearby when she offered the money, no one would have witnessed her act of generosity.  

In stark contrast to this sales clerk, however, we are enmeshed in a clamorous, overstimulating, attention-seeking era. Loud-speaking voices vye for our attention as do flashy images, catchy phrases, and repeated catch phrases–all playing the game of who can garner the most attention, especially on social media platforms, news outlets, and marketing campaigns. In fact, it often seems to me that bullying, arrogance, and even superficiality are now considered acceptable, if not desired, traits. While characteristics such as humility, deep listening, and thoughtful consideration are undervalued or overlooked. 

A man in a suit appears to be angrily shouting or expressing frustration while leaning over a wooden table.
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

The Clamor of Modern Society 📢

Furthermore, the use of repetitive, often vitriolic, messaging can undermine our own belief systems if we are not careful and purposeful with our daily habits. In fact, popular messaging and marketing, if exposed to it often enough, can even degrade the way we choose to comport ourselves on a daily basis. Our ability to remain authentically aligned to our core beliefs and values can be further degraded with continued exposure.

How do we remain steadfast in our core values, much less act as an agent of civility, courtesy, and even compassion with others, like that store clerk, in the midst of a popularized contrarianism?  Do we completely avoid social media, news outlets, and other outside sources of information and entertainment?  Do we cut ourselves off from the outside world and live as hermit?  Certainly not. 

Scrabble tiles arranged to spell 'WE RISE BY LIFTING OTHERS' against a plain white background.
Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

Cultivating Grounding Practices 🙏

I do believe it is possible to stay true and aligned to a path of decency and decorum. It does, however, require acting with a certain level of discipline, such as limiting time spent on social media, watching/reading news, streaming services, and so forth.  Additionally, it further requires creating habits/regular practices that support and deepen our foundational beliefs, such as prayer/meditation, regularly reading scriptures or sacred texts, and/or connecting with like-minded people that enhance, strengthen, and support our values. These deliberate habits of personal energy keeps us grounded and moving forward along a path of integrity.

A smiling woman in a black sleeveless top seated in a modern setting with green plants in the background.
Photo by Alexander Suhorucov on Pexels.com

Leading through authenticity 😃

By living authentically and intentionally, we don’t need a megaphone or platform to share our message.  Instead, we can focus on our primary responsibility, which is to cultivate our own work and/or calling in order to positively contribute to the world around us.  It is not necessary to proselytize and strive for attention in order to do this; our actions can speak for themselves.

If we choose to live and work from a place of inner strength, we can foster the power of a quiet presence, leading by example rather than boasting and posting all of the ways others should live/act/work. This doesn’t mean that we don’t set expectations for ourselves, or for others, if we happen to be in a leadership position, it just means we don’t publicly berate others who don’t meet those standards, nor do we boast about our own accomplishments. Rather, we can strive to strike a balance between leading by example and fostering an attitude of support in order to lift up others, so that they, too, can reach their potential. Helping others reach expectations can be achieved without a bully-pulpit.

A family walking by a lake, with an adult female holding a camera and interacting with a young child on a balance bike, while another adult male walks alongside them.
Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Trust the process

Of course, there will always be times of resistance and discouragement, both personally and when working with others. However, forcing or attempting to control often leads to more resistance.  I know as a teacher, and on a personal level, when asking a child–or myself for that matter–to learn a new and difficult task, the more I push the child, or myself, the more resistance I often encounter. 

Sometimes, we have to step back and trust the natural unfolding of awareness, which isn’t easy.  It often takes time, space, and many attempts that end in failure before the a-ha moment arrives. However, by allowing others, or ourselves, to awaken at their (our) own pace, we create a more sustainable and respectful relationship with others and/or with our own work

Two hands engaged in a handshake, symbolizing connection and support, with a group of people in the background.
Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Be a catalyst for change

The power to be a catalyst for change resides within ourselves and within others, but it doesn’t require force or brash tactics. Instead of being rude, loud, or stridently trying to convince or control others, we can choose instead to live with consistent habits that foster our integrity, allowing us to lead by example, and work for change through our actions, choosing to empower, encourage, and uplift those around us. By quietly setting an example, embodying our core values, faith, and beliefs, our presence can inspire and affect the world around us.

Generosity Ripples

Witnessing that one small act, served as a reminder that our energy and intentions have the power to make an impact. It further illustrates the importance of humble generosity–doing the right and/or kind thing quietly and habitually, without fanfare or need for attention, can still have a positive influence that spreads. Just as a spring petal falls from its tree and gently floats on currents of air until it lands on the waters of a nearby stream, creating ripples from the center of the stream to its banks, so do deeds of goodness and mercy continue on.

A quote encouraging kindness in a simple, elegant font on a light background.

Thrive Through Love: Lessons From Plants

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“We must cultivate our own garden.”–Voltaire 

Drooping from lack of water, my mosaic plant symbolizes our soul without enough attention, love, and supportive relationships.

As I walked into my classroom after spring break, making my way behind my desk, my mosaic plant greeted me with drooping leaves as if to say, “Where have you been?” 

“You poor thing!” I spoke aloud to it–as if it would reply. “I am so sorry. Let me get you some water.” 

Oh, sure, Dear Reader, roll-your-eyes and act as if you don’t talk to your plants. I have no shame in admitting it. Besides, scientific research has established that talking to your plants can create low-level vibrations that stimulate growth. However, since that is not the thesis of this essay, I won’t wander any further down that path. 

The unwatered mosaic plant had suffered alone in the silence of my classroom for well over a week without water. This particular plant requires frequent watering and rotation. When given this, it responds with perky growth and vivid color. Therefore, it was a sad, sickly sight. 

As I carefully began to water my plant, hanging limply in the pot, it reminded me of the way in which humans also need care and attention. Regular watering of plants supports photosynthesis and the roots ability to absorb nutrients from the soil, both of which foster growth. Likewise, when humans receive adequate hydration and adequate nutrition from a healthy, well-balanced diet, our bodies have a better chance of remaining healthy and vibrant.  

Plants, like humans, thrive best when nurtured from within and without.

Continuing to gently water and mist my wilted mosaic plant–yes, I was talking to it all the while–I was reminded of the ways in which humans can wilt from neglect. Our mind, body, and spirit, like my mosaic plant, need nurturing. Without it, our inner world can wither, and we will limp along with a spiritual heart that has a difficult time beating. 

However, with regular sprinklings of love, affection, and/or supportive relationships, our souls can remain hydrated. From faith-based practices to monthly outings with friends or family, from attention/love of a pet to simple interactions with a store clerk, and from exchanging kind words/texts with a neighbor, co-worker, or organization/club member to actions of self-care/love, there are countless ways in which our souls can be watered and nurtured. Therefore, it is vital that we practice engaging with others, so we won’t wilt from lack of love and support. 

Moving around the room to water my other plants, I realized they would soon need to be repotted with fresh, fertilized soil. Some would need a bigger pot than the container in which they currently dwelled. Fresh, fertilized soil, rich in nutrients, is vital for the health and well-being of my plants. New soil will provide a wide array of ingredients uniquely combined to fortify my plants against disease to help them grow healthy and strong.

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Likewise, in order for us to thrive, we, too, need nourishment from a variety of sources. One way we can thrive is by establishing and maintaining a purpose-filled life. This purpose can change and evolve over time as we age and mature, but it needs to be a purpose that not only compels us out of bed each morning, but fuels our life with meaning. 

Creating and maintaining meaningful connections with others, especially when linked to our purpose, can further enrich our lives deeply. Fortification can also be found by mentoring/helping others as well as surrounding ourselves with positive, supportive influences. These types of relationships can form a reciprocal, two-way street, much like plants form with people, which can facilitate an ongoing source of nourishment in our lives. 

Once all the plants were watered, I began rotating each pot to allow all parts of each plant equal time to face and absorb the warmth of sunlight. Sunshine, like water, is needed for photosynthesis. It is only through the process of photosynthesis that plants can have the food needed for growth. When plants face the challenge of living inside a building, they overcome that challenge by growing toward a window, even if it causes the plant to grow with a lean. 

Photo by Khanh Le on Pexels.com

We, too, need to lean into sunshine. The sunshine of positive experiences can imbue us with warmth and motivate us to keep going. That motivation is especially important when we are faced with challenges, as life is never obstacle-free. However, by facing the unique challenge(s) life tends to throw our way, we can eventually discover the unique joy of overcoming difficult circumstances, or at the very least, grow stronger and more resilient from the effort put into overcoming.  

And when those life-challenges seem endless, as they often do, lasting beyond what we think is possible, it warms and strengthens the soul to find pleasure in the little things. From the sweet embrace of a loved one to the sound of birdsong in the morning, from the taste of a great cup of coffee (or whatever) with a friend to the aroma of fresh cookies baking in the oven, or perhaps reading a new book or playing an instrument–whatever you choose, these small delights can be the rays of sunshine that help get us through those dark days of difficulty. 

The object lesson provided by my mosaic plant reminded me that no living thing– humans included–benefits from neglect. When we lose sight of love, meaningful connections, purpose, and positive experiences, we will internally wither, which can manifest itself as physical ailments and/or mental health issues. Without proper care and nurturing, we can grow disheartened, disinterested, and even emotionally distressed or traumatized. 

Photo by Tristan Le on Pexels.com

However, we all have the potential to thrive. Let us strive to offer love and understanding to others and to ourselves. When we see someone hurting, let us find ways to lift them up. 

Likewise, when we recognize our own heart is hurting, let us tend to our own needs through acts of self-compassion, reaching out to others, or seeking other positive means to act as rays of sunshine to lift our spirits. Our time on this earth is short, let us seek productive methods to nourish and enrich others as well as our own lives, so that our life garden can blossom and flourish, no matter where we are planted.

The Art of Loving Unconditionally: Lessons from A River Runs Through It

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings
A scenic view of a river meandering through lush greenery under a blue sky with clouds.
The flow of a river.

Words of Wisdom From a Classic read 📖

One of my favorite stories is A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean. It is an exquisitely written, semi-biographical account of Maclean, and his brother, Paul, growing up in Montana as sons of a Presbyterian minister who taught his boys the art of fly-fishing. The movie version, directed by Robert Redford, captures the earnest beauty of Maclean’s prose. Both pieces weave together a tapestry of thought-provoking life themes centered around family love and connection (including unconditional love for a family member), grace, the fragility and brevity of life, and the eternal nature of time, with the art of fly-fishing as a metaphor as the unifying thread. 

The story’s emphasis on the complicated nature of the brothers’ relationship make it especially compelling and heart-wrenching. Therefore, I have revisited both works on numerous occasions. Each time I reread the story, (and subsequently watch the film) I discover a new gem and/or am reminded of a favorite part, such as a well-written phrase, a turn of words, a point of symbolism, and so forth. My most recent encounter with Maclean’s work was towards the end of December. 

There is a set of lines that stirs my heart every time I read them: 

“So it is . . .that we can seldom help anybody.  Either we don’t know what part to give or maybe we don’t like to give any part of ourselves.  Then, more often than not, the part that is needed is not wanted. And, even more often, we do not have the part that is needed.”

“We are willing to help, Lord, but what if anything is needed?”

Two boys hiking together by a river, wearing casual outdoor clothing and smiling at each other.
AI generated by WordPress.

How do we help others? 🧍🧍‍♂️

As I once more read each word, underlining and contemplating them in the quiet hours of morning, I reflected upon how, with each reading, those words still ring true, but their meaning evolves as I progress in age and life experience. Those bittersweet words bring to mind loved ones and students over the years for whom I have tried to help.

More recently, students of one of my classes and I were discussing their currently assigned book. The main character in their book grew up in a rough set of circumstances, and through a series of unfortunate events, wound up incarcerated in a juvenile detention center. One of the questions that book raises is: Can someone overcome their circumstances and change with the right intervention/outside help? 

The students debated valid points. Some endorsed the possibility that people can overcome their environment and change for the better. Others pointed out the difficulty of changing what has been hard wired into you. 

As the discussion continued, a student asked me what I thought. All eyes in the circle turned to me.

A silhouetted hand reaching out, symbolizing support and connection.
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Bittersweet reminder 🤔

Maclean’s words echoed in my mind as I carefully considered my response. Memories flooded my mind–former students and more personal situations in which I have been truly willing to help– offering extra time, extra care, and extra love. In many cases I have researched and offered suggestions of help–probably way too many with the presumption of, “I can help them fix it,” whatever “it ” may be.  I’ve further ridden the waves of the person’s ups and downs as they strive to overcome and change. I have been, and I still am, willing to help; Lord knows, but as Maclean so eloquently articulated, “{I}we can seldom help anybody.”

Helping others is a complicated process for which our hearts may be in the right place. However, as Maclean points out: most change within another person is not in our control.  Perhaps being willing to help is the best any of us can do unless asked–and even then–we can only offer our support; it is the person who must do the work within.  

Maybe, our support and love will help instigate the needed change, but there’s a strong chance that it won’t. Therefore, it is not our job to “fix” others; it is, instead, our job to love them.  Of course, we can still sincerely believe in the person and continue to pray and hope that the person will overcome their difficult situation or change for the better, but in the meantime we must accept them as they are. 

 Rather than say all of this to my students, I kept it simple. I shared my belief that by nature, hope springs eternal for me when it comes to believing in my students’ (and others’) capabilities for growth and change. I don’t think I could have remained an educator for nearly four decades if I did not believe that change and growth is possible for all of my students. 

A woman with long hair, dressed in dark clothing, is shown in a contemplative pose with her hands clasped together in front of her, against a dark background illuminated with red and blue lighting.
Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

Be Present 🙏

And, while I didn’t share this with my students, my belief and hope flows into my own personal life, too. However, my profession and personal experiences continue to inform me that overcoming what has been ingrained into you at a young age, be it genetic, environmental, or both, is difficult, even with the best help and support.  Furthermore, my experience has also humbly informed me that assuming the person wants help or wants to change is arrogant and so is thinking that we know how to help them.

This doesn’t mean we have to give up; rather, I am beginning to believe it’s about presence. We can be there for them by simply spending time with them as appropriate.  Likewise, we can provide positive support and encouragement, such as, answering the phone when they call, replying to a text they send, or being available to chat. 

Likewise, it doesn’t mean we go overboard using up all of our time and resources, leaving us emotionally, physically, or financially spent. Rather it’s important to find that fine line of being there, but not too much; having firm boundaries, but a welcoming heart/spirit. Mostly though, it seems important that we allow love to flow from us, like the waters of Big Blackfoot River in Maclean’s novella, so maybe on the person’s worst day, they will at least know that they are loved.  They. Are. Loved.

A close-up view of colorful puzzle pieces surrounding the words 'Accept. Understand. Love.' on a white background.
Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

Unconditional love 💜

In the words of thought-leader and influencer, Brené Brown, we must come to peace with the fact that “When you love someone unconditionally, you accept them for who they are, flaws and all.” And that, in the end, just as Maclean had to learn, must be enough. We can only change ourselves, no matter how much we want to help another. 

A chalkboard with the words 'HERE TO HELP' written in white letters on a black background.
Photo by Anna Tarazevich on Pexels.com

Embracing Limitations: Lessons from the Asheville Half Marathon

by stephsimply, posted in Travels

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”–Prayer for serenity

The Blue Ridge Mountains outside of Asheville, NC.

“the mountains are Calling . . .” ⛰️

I had been training for months, despite the challenges winter threw at me. Cold? I can handle it. Snow? I can run in it. Gusty wind? I can run that too. However, after my husband, John, and I crested hill after hill making our way into Asheville, North Carolina, I knew the town’s half marathon would offer a whole new level of challenge. 

To be clear, participating in the Asheville Half Marathon was an insignificant hurdle compared to what the people in Asheville, and all of the other residents of the surrounding areas/towns along US 23, have been facing as they deal with the aftermath of Hurricane Helene.

Driving along US 23, John, and I were able to witness that six months after Hurricane Helene angrily chewed through a large portion of the western Appalachian region, the recovery is still ongoing. However, the willful, and not-to-be-deterred, spirit of the residents was unmistakable. 

Rooftop view from Asheville of surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains.

A Tale of Two Sisters 👧 👧

This past fall, not long after Helene hit, the high school in which John and I work, welcomed two sisters into the student body.  They were from the Asheville area and were staying with relatives while their parents and older brother dealt with the devastation and destruction back home.

The girls were engaging and well-poised, especially considering their circumstances. Over the course of a couple months, I got to know them–not well due to the short duration of their stay–but well enough to swap personal stories from time to time. 

When they learned that like their dad, I often trained for half marathons, they immediately invited me to run the Asheville Half Marathon in March. They explained that by the time spring rolled around, the community would not be fully recovered, but the local economy would need the boost that runners and the accompanying spectators could bring. 

“You should definitely come, Ms. Hill.  You’d like the people of Asheville, especially the running community.” 

Once Asheville High School opened, the girls returned back home. And though I haven’t heard from them since, they planted a seed that grew into a shoot of curiosity. 

Runners were asked to sign the board stating why they ran.

Sign me up! 📝

Around Christmas, I checked the Asheville Marathon/Half Marathon website, and the powerful and persuasive prose describing the event increased my interest. The website’s editors artfully articulated the community’s belief in the significance of the annual running event. They stated the course’s route would not be “pristine or predictable.” Therefore, the event was for those who “thrive on resilience.” However, the line that sealed the deal stated, “If you’re ready to run in the face of adversity and be a part of Asheville’s comeback story, we can’t wait to see you on the start line!” 

John and I at gathering with other runners and spectators at the starting line before the race began.

Ready, set, Go! 🏁

Soon enough, on a chilly, dark March morning, I waited at the starting line with approximately 2,200 runners from 40 states and three countries who also heeded the call to help support Asheville, according to The Weather Channel. The positive vibe was palpable as runners mingled with spectators. Nonetheless, I was feeling a bit nervous as I recalled the half-marathon route’s elevation gain was nearly 800 feet, and its elevation loss was over 900.  

And, it was hilly.  From start to finish, there were no flat stretches. In the beginning, I read spectator signs claiming, “It’s all downhill from here,” with hope. It didn’t take long to realize those signs lied!  Even the finish line required running uphill, but I am “running” ahead of myself.

Running is a metaphor for living life, and it is always whispering (or sometimes shouting, as this event seemed to do) lessons to those of us willing to listen. Accepting limitations–was the lesson those relentless hills of Asheville taught me. Which makes sense since this is what many of the residents of Asheville and the western Appalachian area had to do during, and now after, the storm–accept and deal with limitations. 

Whether literal or metaphorical, storms of life cause us to suffer. As I repeatedly tried to power through those uphills during the first half, my ego kept telling me to push harder, creating suffering. However, as a late-in-life runner lacking inherent running talent, the reality is that race events for me are more about creating motivation and structure to consistently get me out the door to exercise. At the end of the day, I am not about to set any records; I am not even close to winning my age group, so why was I pushing so hard?

And so, it was on a hill, not long after milepost seven, that I decided to accept my limitations. Sure, I had trained on hills at home, but nothing like this. Why not power walk up the rest of the hills, and then run the downhill portions?

Asheville taught me to accept my limitations.

There is a newfound freedom in accepting one’s limitations 🏃‍♀️

Once I accepted my limitations, there was freedom. I had a new way of being present with the race challenges as they unfolded. This acceptance gave me permission to slow down, take in the sites, and feel a sense of gratitude for my health and ability to make this trip. 

Additionally, by walking the hills, I had more energy to offer encouragement to fellow runners I encountered who also seemed to be struggling. (After all, I run at the back of the pack, where we could all benefit from a little encouragement.) Furthermore, I was also able to offer thanks to the spectators who manned drink stations, rang cowbells, or waved motivating signs with clever phrases such as, “Touch here for power,” “You’re stronger than any storm,” or “You’re running better than our government.” 

By the time I crossed the uphill finish line, tears filled my eyes as I raised my hands in the air.  No, I wasn’t celebrating a personal record, but instead, I was able to celebrate that I crossed the finish line with grace, humility, and a lesson learned. 

The AVL finish line of through which I would later cross humbled, and grateful, by another lesson running once more provided me.

The lesson? Transforming suffering can only occur if we are willing to be with it and accept the limitations it creates. Accepting limitations can be transformatively freeing, allowing us to lean into newly created possibilities we may not have been able to previously envision. I am not saying that accepting our limitations is not easy. However, once we let go of ego and embrace humility, it is possible to embrace the freedom that comes with focusing on what we CAN do.

Thank you , Asheville! I walk away from the finish line with grateful heart and a lesson learned. Furthermore, thank you, Hannah and Allison! I wish your family the best! 💜

Finding Peace Amid Life’s Storms

by stephsimply, posted in Uncategorized

“Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you do have power over instead of craving control over what you don’t.”–Steve Maraboli

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

WArning: Shifting Life weather ⛈️

My husband, John, and his sister, Jacki, have birthdays during the last days of February. This year, we celebrated both birthdays on the day in between their two respective birth dates. As John and I drove towards Jacki’s house, we revelled in the warm-ish, slanted sunlight of late February. However, a stiff, cold breeze hinted of a dramatic weather shift.

Soon enough, we observed layers of dark gray and black clouds encroaching from the northwest as if ready to aggressively lash out in a fit of rage.

By the time we arrived at Jacki’s house, the wind gathered more intensity. Layers of clouds silently slinked closer, blanketing the sunlight. Warning rain drops, heavy with intention, randomly fell at intermittent intervals. 

Our daughter met us in the parking lot of a restaurant as a menacing mass of mayhem loomed above us. The winds forcibly fought against our efforts to walk into the establishment. The restaurant door resisted opening against the wind and then likewise fought to be closed. Seconds after John struggled to shut the door, a hostile bolt of lightning loudly landed nearby, shaking the building.

After being seated, torrents of truculent rain burst forth from swirling chaotic clouds soaking the next few guests who entered through the front doors. 

Photo by Dan Prado on Pexels.com

Change The focus 🎁

Soon enough, however, we diverted our attention away from the storm, talking and swapping stories. John and Jacki opened gifts, and we spent the next hour and a half engrossed in one another’s company with little focus on the discord of the storm unfolding around us. The storm was there, lashing and railing against the walls and windows, but it no longer disturbed our peace of mind as we focused on the unfolding celebration.

Yet, how many times in life do we allow surrounding storms and worries to shake and distract us from the moment at hand?

Photo by Jo Kassis on Pexels.com

Rough Waters Ahead 🌊

Many years ago, our family visited the shores of the Outer Banks in North Carolina when our daughter was quite young. It was a last minute trip during the first week of August, just before the start of school. The three of us made daily trips to the shoreline with books, umbrella, cooler, and boogie boards in tow. 

Unfortunately, the temperatures were incredibly hot, even in the early morning. Therefore, we spent most of our time in the cool water on our boogie boards. We would wade out until our daughter was knee deep, then plop ourselves, belly down, on our boards. Next, we would paddle and kick to where the waves were breaking. When we saw what we thought was a “good wave,” we’d point our boogie boards back to the beach, start paddling and kicking, catch the wave, and ride it in towards the shore.

Each time we rode the wave in, we were taken a little further up the shoreline from where we had set up “camp” due to the strong undertow. Eventually, we would be taken so far north that we could no longer see our belongings, and we would lumber out of the water, walking back to our starting point. This would occur repeatedly as we had no control of the undertow.

Photo by Maria Orlova on Pexels.com

Possible strong Undertow 😵‍💫

The other thing that would happen is that one, or all, of us would get flipped off our boards by a rogue wave. The rough waters hurled us to the sandy, shell-covered bottom, and we would come up sputtering and coughing, completely disheveled–banged up and sand abraded. This often forced us to take a break in order to catch our breath. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be long until we were right back out there again, trying to catch a wave in the wild surf, despite the fact we knew we would ultimately get dumped again.  

Yet, despite the extreme August heat, strong undertow, and often rough surf, we focused more on our laughter and the joy of being together, creating memories that still make my heart smile.

Photo by Tyler Lastovich on Pexels.com

You can choose your Response 🤔

Like the birthday storm and those long ago OBX waves, life has times when it rages with rough rains of hurt, blows wild winds of change, drifts us along an undertow of misleading information, or chucks us under waves to the bottom of mental anguish. If we choose to focus on the suffering, we will inevitably suffer more.  

We can, however, choose to direct our attention away from the storm and other difficulties. It doesn’t mean we’re not aware of the situation–or completely ignore it. Instead, we can focus on what we can control. The challenge will still be there, but we can choose to live with it, and in the meantime, redirect our attention like we would a toddler in a seaside gift shop drawn to the glass figurines. 

In the end, the chaos of life storms are often not controllable, but our responses and/or level of reactivity can be. Our minds, with practice, can be trained to ride those waves. By focusing on what we can do, such as stepping out of the fray, walking along the shores of self-care, choosing an alternate, renewing activity, and/or turning inward for reflection/prayer, we can redirect our mind in a more positive/productive manner until either when the stormy wave passes, or we are ready to begin kicking and paddling in the waters of life once more.

Finding Service and Joy in Every Job: Lessons from a cleaner

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“recalling unceasingly before our God and Father your work energized by faith, and your service motivated by love and unwavering hope . . .” 1 Thessalonians 1:3 (Amplified Bible)

What a difference one person can make😃

I had a feeling when I walked into my classroom one frosty January morning and observed the unswept floor, Mr. King (name changed for privacy) had not been in my classroom over Christmas break. Not that I typically permit my students to leave trash and debris on the classroom floor; however, I noticed there were a few pieces of notebook paper, pink pencil eraser dust, and a random pen lid dropped to the floor.  

Thanks, in large part to Mr. King, my classroom floor was usually immaculate. Was he sick? When I saw him, he appeared to be fighting some sort of virus. Picking up what I could off the floor, I thought of Mr. King, and the way he approached his work. However, students had begun to arrive, and I knew I would have to set aside my current strands of thought.

Later in the week, I ran across a quote that reminded me of Mr. King: “You are always doing spiritual work. It is not necessarily the action that is important, but how you do it.” (Satchidananda) I thought of his smile, his positive attitude, and the can-do energy he brought with him to his work. 

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Each Job is part of a Bigger Picture 🧹

I first met Mr. King during the summer before school started. He was part of a professional cleaning crew hired by our school. We occasionally chatted while we both worked, if he happened to be completing a task in my classroom. During one of those chats, we said his cleaning job mattered because he felt he was part of the team helping the students to have a successful school year.  

“If I don’t do my job, then you have to do my job, which means you don’t have as much time to focus on your students and that means their learning suffers.  It’s all a chain, y’see?”

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Working with Joy 🎶

Once the school year was under way, I would often hear Mr. King, after school hours, singing/humming in the next classroom as he swept. It was a joyful energy, his voice pitching high and low as he worked. 

Some days, after students were dismissed and I remained getting caught up on work, Mr. King would respectfully knock and ask if I minded him coming in to sweep. Never wanting to interfere with his cleaning schedule, I welcomed him in. 

No matter how busy Mr. King was, he would take time to ask about my husband and me. Then, he tended to have some sort of question or story for me to ponder. It was a delightful give and take, and he was most interested in improving himself, body, mind, and spirit.

Though our conversations were never longer than three or four minutes, I was left with the impression that Mr. King was a deeply faith-filled man who had made mistakes, knew he wasn’t perfect, but still had the desire and heart to improve.

He especially seemed to want his life to be of good service. To this end, he once said, “I am working. Am I not? But how am I doing it? That’s what’s real.” 

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OUr Work Ethic speaks for us 🤓

Later in the month of January, another coworker said Mr. King went back to Florida, from where he was originally, in order to be closer to his family

Upon hearing this, I recalled he once took a phone call from his daughter while sweeping my classroom. Returning from the hallway into which he had stepped to talk with her, he looked wistful, adding, “I worry about her.”

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simple ways we can be of SErvice to others: 😃

The memory of Mr. King’s work ethic now serves as a reminder to me that no matter what job we have, we can find ways for our work to be of service to others. Here are some of the ways, Mr. King demonstrated this:

Work with joy. It doesn’t mean that we don’t have challenging or difficult days. Rather, we can still have something for which to feel joyful IN SPITE of circumstances, and that joy can become contagious. Mr. King appeared to find and share joy by singing/humming and smiling outwardly. Even on those days where I could tell something was bothering him, he still offered me a smile and a sincere greeting. 

Find the meaning in your work. Mr. King believed his work was important because he was contributing to the overall well-being and success of students, teachers, and staff. He often spoke about how much he liked the teachers and students he met and was glad he could do his part to help our school. 

Work hard, but take time to pay attention to others. Mr. King was an efficient and effective cleaner, but he still took time to greet staff members by name. If he learned something special about someone, he would ask questions about that special-something and would later refer to it in passing conversations. He was the master of personalized small talk.

Remain flexible and responsive to the needs/priorities of the day. If a worker was out, or a new worker was being trained (which was often), I would frequently overhear Mr. King fielding calls to answer questions and/or offer help. He appeared to adapt his schedule in stride to accommodate necessary changes. Even then, if he saw John, my husband, or me, he’d pause with a “Y’all doin’ ok?” or “You and Mr. John take care this evenin’.” 

Be empathetic and compassionate. Throughout the time Mr. King worked at our school, I observed several occasions when he took time to interact with students who looked frustrated, down, or who simply seemed alone. He’d ask, “You doin’ ok, buddy?” or offer another kind phrase in an attempt to bring a smile to a kid’s face. Then he went right back to work, whistling or humming as he went.  

It’s not what you do, but how you do it. Mr. King epitomized this. A radiant smile never seemed to leave his face while working. Furthermore, he demonstrated to his coworkers, and those with whom he encountered, that he cared, was interested, and desired to uplift the small piece of world his work-life encompassed.  

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final thoughts🤔

None of Mr. King’s skills are life shattering or new ideas. However, in a world where it currently appears acceptable to be ill-mannered, ill-tempered, non-empathetic, and even outright bully others to get your way, Mr. King’s skills and attitude were a refreshing change of pace. Imagine the amount of good that could be generated if more people thought about HOW they worked, spoke, and acted–if more people would choose to be truly service-driven, energized by faith and motivated by love and hope. How much more would be accomplished . . .if only.

The Power of Silence: Reflections on Mindfulness Retreat

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“In the silence of the heart, God speaks.” Mother Teresa

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Silent Retreat? 🧘‍♀️

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went, but I was enjoying lunch with a friend on a Saturday when she told me she was attending a silent meditation retreat in two weeks, and asked if I would be interested in it. The retreat, she said, was sponsored by The Mindfulness Tree, a meditation community in Charleston, WV, and it would be led by Dr. Christine L. Blice-Baum, MDiv, DMA. Curiosity bloomed, and in a matter of days, I was also registered for the retreat.

In the days leading up to the retreat, I vacillated between feelings of excitement and thoughts of “what-have-I-got-myself-into?” The retreat required spending time in silence with complete strangers, excluding my friend, of course. I kept reminding myself that it wouldn’t be any different than going to an appointment or to the store with numerous others I don’t know. Never once, however, did it cross my mind that this retreat would provide multiple opportunities to come face-to-face with my mind’s resistance and its desire for distractibility.

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Put away those devices 📲

Upon arrival, all participants in the retreat were asked to put up our phones and take off our smartwatches until the time of our departure. We had the choice to leave our devices in our car, in our own purse/bag, or stow them in a zip lock bag that was put away until the end of retreat.  I chose the latter option as a symbolic break-away from technology and, in all honesty, to reduce any temptation to peek in my bag at either device during the day. 

Not having technology was one of the first minor “discomforts” I repeatedly noticed. It began when I tried to check the outside temperature by looking at my wrist, and then did it several more times! What time is it? No smartwatch. Does the radar show my hometown receiving as much rain as here?  No phone. Blice-Baum just shared a great idea; I should type that in my notes. No phone. I should take a picture of the church’s pipe organ. No phone. Did my husband remember to  . . . . 

Participants in seated meditation.

Lessons of Stillness 🤫

This was my first a-ha moment. I was astounded to realize the amount of time my mind spends in a day consumed with thoughts of all the ways I can implement/use my smartphone and its companion watch. What’s crazy is that I am not a big user of social media, so I had this notion that giving up my devices would not be a big deal. While on one hand, it wasn’t, on the other hand, I was humbled to realize, social media consumer or not, my mind has been trained to be distracted by devices. 

The second big lesson had to do with a notion known as “custody of the eyes”–averting the gaze to avoid visual distractions in order to maintain focus. This practice was a challenge throughout the entirety of the session. 

The retreat schedule was well organized, sessions of seated meditation were interspersed with walking, movement, and standing mediations; however, my mind kept wandering and niggling me to look around at my surroundings. During walking and movement meditations, I had to keep redirecting my attention back to the meditation focus at hand because my mind had the tendency to wander off into people-watching mode. 

Participants take part in a silent walking meditation

The third lesson: I also squabbled with my mind’s habit of entering “squirrel-mode”–moments when something in the environment, or on the wall caught my attention, and my mind would launch off into associations with whatever my eyes had noticed. I knew I was distractible, but I never realized my mind was like a puppy visiting a new environment.

Another eye-opener occurred during our silent lunch. Blice-Baum, after sharing a prayer of gratitude and blessing for the food, led the participants through a short exercise of mindful eating. Then, we were directed to continue to enjoy our meal in silence, engaging all of our senses in the eating experience. This was when my mind really rebelled.  

Since I was a young girl reading the backs of cereal boxes at the breakfast table, I have always read while eating–newspapers, magazines, books–which were later replaced with digital versions. Without such distraction, I noticed my tendency to want to eat quickly and my eyes repeatedly searched around for something on which to focus other than my food. It took time for my mind to settle, slow down, and focus on taste and other sensations associated with the simple act of eating. This was a shocker because I love the taste, textures, and fragrance of food. In fact, I love to eat, but I clearly need to practice eating mindfully more often.

Group picture of participants.

Positive takeaways 🙌

In spite of all the mental obstacles and resistance I experienced throughout the retreat, I walked away feeling refreshed and renewed. Remaining fully focused and present on one’s own breath, a mantra, or an image isn’t easy, but there is something to be said about taking time to slow down and focus on one thing at a time. I felt as if I was coming home to my heart, and my own inner knowing, despite the fact I had to repeatedly redirect my mind like a toddler walking around the Tamarack Marketplace.

Would I do another silent meditation retreat? Absolutely! Many of the things that had been worrying me when I arrived at the retreat felt less weighty when I left. I experienced a recommitment to my personal practice of meditation/mindfulness and was inspired by new techniques to incorporate, not only in my own practice, but also to include with the yoga/mindfulness class I teach at school. Furthermore, in the days that have followed, there has been an overall increase in my sense of gratitude, along with a renewed sense of purpose. I have also noticed a calmer mind with a significant decrease in the power of those negative voices that love to chatter about in my head.

 Most of all, I am much more aware of how easily and quickly my mind can be distracted. These mental diversions on the surface seem as shiny and fun as a carousel ride to a young child, but they can lead to avoidance of the moment at hand–knowledge and understanding of what is going on in the here and now. Therefore, focus––especially given all the digital distractions–more than ever requires diligence, dedication, and continued redirection. And, one of the best ways to do this is the practice of meditation, mindfully completing tasks, or by simply connecting with our own breath.

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Interested in Learning more?

If you are interested in learning more about meditation, would like more information about The Mindfulness Tree, or would like to connect with Blice-Baum, please visit www.themindfulnesstree.life. 

Dr. Christine L. Blice-Baum, MDiv, DMA

Navigating Life’s Uncertainties One Moment at a Time

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“Take one moment at a time and do the next right thing.”–Eleanor Amerman Sutphen

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What Did I hear? 👂

My ears perked up when I heard the guest on a podcast share the above phrase based upon  a poem by Sutphen, but made popular by both Elisabeth Elliot and Carl Jung. I had just arrived home with several bags filled with groceries to put away. Setting down the bags, I typed the phrase into my phone’s reminder app in order to remember it. Then, ironically enough, I returned to the next moment: putting away the groceries.

Like a persistent earworm, that phrase kept looping through my brain. Maybe it was Divine Providence, or maybe my subconscious niggled me to recognize the words I needed to hear. Regardless, the universe had offered me a nugget of wisdom to the question I had been asking, but had not yet been able to fully articulate: What can I do in the face of the difficult and uncertain life moment in which I found myself?  

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Snowy Days can lead to Sluggish Ways 😏

The month of January was a slippery, and less than stellar, start to the new year.  All around me, icy roads, alleys, and sidewalks served as a reminder that I was struggling to find my footing. As one who is not naturally organized and often has no sense of time, I function optimally with a routine/schedule.  It’s not that I can’t “go with the flow.”  I can do that quite brilliantly, but I don’t accomplish nearly as much, nor do I make as many–if any–inroads towards goals.

It is as if I have been dropped deep into a dark and menacing forest filled with a multitude of statuesque tree shadows and brambling thorny briers. Meanwhile, a multitude of strands in life’s web are criss-crossing in ways that make it feel less integrous, as if at any moment, the winds will shift and blow a hole in the tenuous gossamer nexus of life. I sense time sliding sideways, and I am trying to find my footing, so I don’t fall into the thin ice at the center of the mostly frozen pond. Arms flapping this way and that way, steps shortening, stumbling, and struggling to remain upright because I need to find my stride once more. 

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The Struggle Can be Real 😞

I am not the first, nor am I alone, I suspect, in feeling “something” akin to a crisis–a time in life when I find myself deeply questioning my purpose, my identity, and my role in all that is occurring. It is a time where I feel helpless to help others who need it but won’t accept it; a time with still unachieved goals and dreams, but I struggle to see, much less find, the path forward; and, a time in which I frequently ask myself: Am I doing the best I can with this one precious life I have been given?

Personally speaking, it feels as if the to-do list grows longer by the day, but few items are getting marked off.  While all around me, events, completely out of my control, dictate more chaos. Pixelated ideas frequent my mind, but my brain resists zooming in and focusing on any one thought as if the identity of each idea has been hidden like a person being interviewed for an investigative, undercover documentary. Overthinking, second-guessing, and a feeling of dormancy have entered my mental home and overstayed their welcome. 

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The Sweet Lesson of Winter Trees ❄️

As I write these words, I pause to gaze out at the trees in my backyard. They too are experiencing dormancy. Deciduous trees have slowed their internal processes and metabolism, halting their own growth in order to conserve energy. Inside the trees, cells have hardened and shrunk. Additionally, the water between the cells has frozen, and the water inside cells is becoming more dense and syrupy. Some trees even grow thicker bark in the winter to create a sheath of preservation until warmer temperatures arrive when growth and leaf production can once more occur.

I take a deep breath and feel the rise of my belly. Dawn’s light has gifted another overcast winter morning. The birds have also risen–chirp, chirp, chirping the gossip of a new day. The rise and fall of their flight, along with their up and down hip-hops along tree branches make me smile. I sigh out the exhale I had been holding, noticing the fall of my belly. With each breath I take, as I continue to ponder the nature beyond my window, I can’t help but notice the rising and falling of my stomach.

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The Rising and the Falling 🌅🌄

The sunrise, the trees, the birds, and even my breath remind me that everything is subject to rising and falling. Our pain and sadness, our joys and happiness, and even current events are all impermanent, rising and falling with the various seasons of life. This season of personal dormancy that has banked to new heights in my mind will eventually thaw like the melting of the once-deep snow. This is the nature of impermanence–the rising and the falling–nothing can last forever. 

Thus, these dark doldrums of winter housed in my mental guest room might be offering me an opportunity to do less, perhaps allowing my creative juices and energy to fully concentrate and thicken, much like the trees in my backyard, into the sweet syrup of forward progress. It will just take the sweet essence of time. And the only way to get there from the dark passages of here is to take one breath, one moment at a time and keep choosing to do the next right thing.

The Dance of Time: Snowflakes and Memories

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“Like snowflakes your words fall silent, but my heart still hears your voice.”–Angie Weiland Crosby

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His radiant red contrasts the rambling lines of landscape blanketed in brilliant white over which Mother Nature continues to shake clouds full of crystalized sugar. There is a muted hush, like the stillness of our lungs between the inhale and exhale, and then with a shiver, she cascades more snowy powder in a frenetic freefall. The spry cardinal skips and hops through brambling branches. Then, tilts its head, as if it just remembered an important date, and lifts in flight. 

Inhale. Lips seal in a smiled memory of long ago. 

Pause. Sense the stillness 

Exhale. Perceive the prickle of the past.

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Observing the steady dance of freed flakes, my mind meanders through the rolling hills of earlier life–so many memories sift through and then meld into the collective cache of moments. Childhood. Youth. Young adult. Parenting. Empty-nesting. Hands outstretched wide.  Collect the moments. Like snowflakes landing on a mitten, I cannot clasp such things for long. 

Inhale. Eyes soften their gaze.

Pause. Brain swirling through Kodacrhome images faded with time.

Exhale. Sense the shudder of time. 

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Accumulation of moments, unique in dimension and structure, pass through the sieve of consciousness. One reminiscence overlaps another in a spiraling swirl of sensory recollections. A Chex mix of her memories stirred up with mine.

Galoshes, long underwear and frosty wet jeans.

Layers of shirts and jackets, and a big ol’ coat.  

Mummified walking. 

Snowflakes dusting shoulders and hats; red, dripping noses. 

Snowballs, snowman, snowfort

Neighbors calling

Who hit me in the back?

Inhale. Gaze remains inward

Pause. Linger in timelessness. 

Exhale. Soften into space and time.

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Rolling, rolling, snowballs large and small, impressions of the past and present pinging. How marvelous, to have these individual souvenirs of time heaped into a memory bank like snowflakes plowed into mounds alongside a road. 

Sounds of barking, scent of wet dog. 

Red sled, yellow cord; here we go again! 

Fearless flights of fancy, impervious to the elements

Mittens over gloves, wet and soaked through. 

Pink cheeks, cold hands; giggles and grins galore. 

Campbell soup and grilled cheese.

Cookies with hot cocoa and a giant floating marshmallow.

Soggy clothes, drip, drip, dripping on an overburdened rack.

Child, with canine companion, reading in big cozy chair

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Inhale deeply as eyes return to snow. 

Pause. Flakes flicker and fly 

Exhale. Present in the moment.

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Scaning frosted tree arms splayed open for welcoming feathered friends. There he is again. Handsome boy. Tufted red hair, not a feather out of place. Unflappable and composed in a wintry playground. Head cocks and black eyes glisten. He seems to see me, and I am reminded of a conversation.

Before the snow arrived, my husband and I discussed the impending weather. He had worried and watched the approaching meteorological conditions.  “It will do what it will do,” I said.  Not to be dismissive of his concerns, but to instead, remind both of us that we can only watch and wait.  Then, if/when it arrives–as it did–we will know.

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In that moment, it occurred to me that so will life. Just like weather, life will do with us what life will do. We are not in as much control as we think we are. 

This doesn’t mean we should not prepare, plan (to the degree possible), and be aware of future events, but many, if not most, events cannot be known until we are in the midst of a whirling outpour. Sometimes, those moments merely require that we stand like a child, head thrown back and tongue out, tasting and savoring each precious moment. Other times, life drifts in deep, and we are shoveling out as best we can, holding on for the sun’s warmth.

Through the flurries and cloudbursts of storms, there is the throughline of the present moment. Life is happening now, and what is happening now will be our future memories. 

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The cardinal serves as a symbol for me of past and present. I cannot see the red feathered fellow in the winter without simultaneously being in awe of his present day beauty while also reminded of my Pappaw.  He loved to feed and watch the birds, especially in the winter; cardinals were his favorite.  “Now, Stethie, look at those red birds out there.  Aren’t they something?” 

Pappaw often told me bluejays were a “mean bird,” albeit “good-looking fellows.” He did not like the way they became territorial and aggressive towards other birds, especially the cardinals at his feeder. There were several occasions in which I’d watched him dart out of the house without a coat or hat and chase the bluejays away to protect “his red birds.”

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Pappaw is long gone. I am not sure if I appreciated my time with him during those once present moments as I should have. And yet, outside of my window, the cardinal continues its call of snowy days present and past.

 The coming and going of time begins in the “right here, right now” moments. Inhale. Connect to the arriving moment.  Pause. Feel the presence. Exhale. Tick. Tock. Another opportunity to collect a memory before, like the snow, it melts away. 

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Embrace Kindness: New Year’s Resolutions for 2025

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings
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Who Set a Resolution for 2025? 🙋‍♀️ 🙋‍♂️

Did you set a goal or resolution for 2025? According to the Pew Research Center, the younger you are, the more likely you are to establish a resolution. Last year, about half (49%) of the adults, 18-29 years, made at least one resolution. That dropped to ⅓ (31%) of adults, aged 30-49 years, and for those over age 50, only about ⅕ (21%) of this age group sets New Year’s intentions. 

Yougov.com reported similar statistics for last year. This organization’s polling further revealed that by March 2024 nearly ⅔ (70%) of those adults who set resolutions had either mostly or entirely stuck to their goals. Not surprising, most resolutions, according to both PRC and Yougov, had to do with either health, such as exercising more or eating healthier, or wealth, such as saving more money or paying down debt. 

Establishing resolutions around improving one’s health or one’s financial security are certainly worthwhile endeavors for which I wholly support. However, I would like to put forth this idea–whether you do or don’t make New Year’s resolutions–for spreading seeds of goodwill, kindness, and simple decency. While this is a less specific goal–and flies in the face of those who argue for SMART (specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound) goals–I would argue that setting a daily intention to plant one seed kindness is also SMART and smart. 

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Consider This . . . 🤔

The following quote by William Arthur Ward is often shared at the start of New Year’s that says: “I have the opportunity, once more to right some wrongs, to pray for peace, to plant some trees, and sing more joyful songs.” 

I believe this quote is worth considering now as social media outlets and people of influence have made it socially acceptable to bad-mouth, malign, and verbally abuse others with the intent to create division, discord, and derision. In fact, I think Ward’s decades old statement can be turned into actionable goals, a couple for which I have reworded for the purpose of goal implementation. These include: right some wrongs; pray for peace, plant some seeds, as well as celebrate and share joy.

Right Some Wrongs. This goal is simple. When you do something wrong, own it, apologize for it, make whatever amends you need to make, and learn from it.  We all make mistakes, unintentionally say something hurtful, or do something that upon hindsight wasn’t the best choice. Instead of acting like it didn’t happen or feeling a sense of self-loathing for doing it, do something about it.  Sure it may not be easy, and you may have to swallow your pride. However, in the end, both you and the other person(s) will feel better and/or benefit.

Pray/meditate for Peace. Again, this is another simple goal that takes minimal effort. Spending five to ten minutes per day contemplating peaceful actions for the day, praying for guidance for world, national, and/or local political leaders, or focusing on any other forms of peace you would like to see in the world is neither time-consuming nor hard. The world needs more peace warriors, so why not bless it with more peaceful words, prayers, meditations, thoughts, and altruistic actions.

Plant Some Seeds. Random Acts of Kindness (RAK) Foundation, started in 1995, has done an excellent job of promoting kindness.  Their motto, “Making kindness the norm ♥ ️,” I would argue remains relevant 30 years later. This can definitely fit into the SMART criteria as it is specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound. Do and/or say something kind, helpful, and encouraging, every single day.  It’s that simple.  Even if you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, doing something for someone else has the power to not only positively affect that person, but that goodwill will fan out across a sea of souls unseen to you. As an added bonus, you will most likely feel better as well. If you’re at a loss for ideas of kind actions to implement, visit randomactsofkindness.org for scores of suggestions. Acts of kindness can create ripples of positivity on the troubled waters of life; they can be balm for a bruised and battered soul.

Celebrate and share joy. If you’ve ever had a serious illness, you know all too well the realization that can dawn on you for taking for granted those so-called “normal days” of life and health. Therefore, why not celebrate, savor, or at the very least, acknowledge (and perhaps enjoy) an average (or not-so-average) day of life? You have one precious life–that’s it–so pay attention to it. Share a “dad” joke, shake or hold a hand, pat another person the back, hug a friend, stroke your pet’s soft fur, eat that piece of cake, have coffee or tea with a friend, take a walk in the sun, smile more, frown less, take an interest in the person from whom you buy that morning cup of joe. . . . In other words, step away from the screen, from social media, and streaming/gaming services.  Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with them, but life is not lived on screen.  Even in this hyper-connected world, I can’t imagine anyone, nearing the end of their life, wishing they had spent more time with Facebook. 

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YOu can make a difference this year! 🫶

Whether you’re part of the statistics that chooses to set New Year’s resolutions or not, we can all make the choice to: right personal wrongs, pray for peace, plant seeds of positivity, and/or celebrate/savor the joy of being alive. These are not difficult tasks, but rather they are simple actions that possess potential opportunities to send forth warming rays of goodwill, tolerance, and decency in a world clouded over with ill will, acrimony, and disrespect. While your actions may not make headlines, you can be sure that one good act begets another. And, that, my dear Reader, can indeed make a difference. 

Happy New Year!