Because I am too tired to write tonight...

I will share with you one of my most favorite poems ever by one of my most favorite poets ever. It reminds me to practice gratitude and to never stop noticing the beauty all around.

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any—lifted from the no
of all nothing—human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e. e. cummings

Gratitude (aka Thanksgiving)

I am thankful for:

• My family and friends, who keep me sane and grounded... and who have come through for me so many times in so many ways I never fail to be astounded by their generosity and love.
• My husband and daughter, who are the hub of my world. They are my glue, my greatness, and my glory.
• My home, my health, and my happiness. I am forever striving to value these things all the time, because I know I am luckier than many and therefore might do more to stop suffering if I were consistently able to see my own bounty.
• My graduate program, professors, peers, colleagues, and mentors—they have enriched my learning experience beyond measure and are an integral part of my development as a counselor and my growth as a human being.
• My students and clients... who unfailingly teach me new things about myself, my work, and the world at large each time we work together.
• My country, which has managed its 44th presidential election and is in the middle of a successful, peaceful, and productive transition amid turmoil and fear. The philosophy and idealism of this nation is one of its most beautiful assets and inspiring qualities.
• The many creative, inspirational, humbling, glorious, sacred, powerful things in this world that can occur on the most minute level imaginable or the largest scale possible. I am grateful for these because it helps me remember my humanity – in both its finite and infinite carnations – and the dizzyingly intricate interconnectedness of everything.

Thought to Word to Deed

It's been a strange week and a particularly strange day. I sometimes marvel at the synchronicity life serves up at times, and I have been flooded lately with thoughts on multiple subjects.

Mental health and wellness, professional roles in the various mental health tracks and what it means to enter a career track that is still - in many ways - in the process of being defined, nostaligia and the impact of memory, forgiveness and gratitude... and the restorative power of nature and how even the simplest of things, like sunshine and the scent of burning leaves, can be a source of salvation in difficult times.

I was listening to NPR this morning (I know... what a surprise), and I heard a story about a woman who was reconsidering her college options because her mother had lost her job. One of the schools she had previously considered, Boston University, carried a projected price tag of $200,000 for 4 years there.

That's where I went to school. And although it was not quite that high at the time I attended, it was enormously pricey. And it made me realize what a huge gift it was to receive help from my parents in order to attend.... and an even greater gift when my mother and stepfather paid off my college loans several years ago.

I had already been thinking about all of the sacrifices they made throughout my childhood and about how all the things I had taken for granted (holidays, traditions, safety, good schooling, an emphasis on education, dinners together each night, long talks, responsibility and freedom) are so amazingly hard and stressful when you're the parent.

Having my own child has opened my eyes to the amount of sacrifice, intention, thought, care, generosity, love, and careful attention they put into raising me. It has increased my gratitude for and appreciation of their parenting choices, along with forgiveness for mistakes, which we are all capable of making (and all do).

I do not say thank-you enough. I feel, especially lately, like I need to do a better job of expressing my gratitude toward those special people in my life and opening my heart more in order to spend more time expressing joy and less time caught in criticism, impatience, or stress-induced frustration.

Lately I imagine writing thank you cards each week, or even each day... sending them out to everyone I can think of with personalized notes and sincere, heartfelt thanks for all the big and little things that make a difference in my life.

So... as of this moment, I make the intention to write one card per month, expressing my thanks to someone important. (And some of you may someday know if I've actually followed through!)

Ego, Egads! (an embarrassing confession)

I am struggling with envy of late. Envy and ego swirled together like a hard candy found in cupboards of little old ladies who still dress up on Sunday.

I spoke with my brother the other day, and he told me about all the amazing things he's doing, how well the show is going, how much he loves Sydney, etc. And don't get me wrong... I LOOOOVE my brother and I am so, so, so very proud of him for pushing toward his dreams with full strength and actually reaching them. It's amazing.

But there is a part of me, every single time, that starts to jabber away about how I gave up... about how my life is not exciting or filled with trips to other countries or amazing, beautiful dreamlike creativity. About how Andy and I struggle to make ends meet even though we're in our mid-30s and we still express discontentment and extreme confusion as to what we want to be when we grow up.

And we are still not sure if we have grown up, or are grown ups.
(I suppose if you have to ponder and ask, then the answer is no.)

I miss my artistic life, but I also remember how bad the fit was when we finally left and went in search of a new direction in order to fashion a different life. But I often feel my family is more impressed with his successes than mine, and I often wonder what would have happened if I had been more confident and less apologetic in my pursuit of an artistic career.

And so here I am, struggling to live in the now, except that the now contains jealousy and self-upbraiding... and a small little whisper of failure in the back of the throat and the pit of the stomach.

I don't know many people who have achieved their dream. My brother is one, which makes him incredibly special (and it helps that he's generous, funny, easygoing, and insatiably curious to boot). I think much of my dis-ease comes from not entirely knowing what my dream is.

So today I wander, a little lost, and still quite grateful - but doggedly looking for an answer to a question I still don't know how to ask.

Taken for Granted

We got an update today from our friends who have been in the hospital with their little one; they are not out of the woods yet, but steps are being taken and it sounds like all went well for this initial procedure, so we all have high hopes it will continue to be good news and an excellent prognosis for all the steps that will follow.

Their little one is only 10 weeks old. And he is not the first child of a friend who has faced serious complications this early in life. And while it's always inspiring to me how strong the parents - my friends who are often far away and so sorely missed - can be... I also know how everything you know and feel can shift swiftly and sharply in the middle of a crisis. What we previously thought we could never bear, we push through and take one step at at time... because, as someone at school once said, we have to. What else would you do?

I feel great empathy for these parents who face such scary situations with their children. And it makes me realize how much I take Ari's health (and really Andy's and mine as well) for granted. It's an excellent reminder, as are so many of the things those around the world are faced with daily, of what a blessed life I lead. One that I should not take lightly or dismiss easily, because I am very lucky. Even those crises we have faced pale in comparison to the trials of others, and so I hope to always remember to value the good things I have... to cherish the good in my life.

We continue to pray for our friends and their loved ones as they face these challenges; to celebrate the survivals, the successes, the small miracles; and to keep remembering to appreciate each blessing - each joy - because they are wonderful, special, miraculous gifts.

Trust (a note to myself)

Everything happens for a reason. Even if you can't see it yet or are unable to discern the bigger picture at the moment--there is direction in the chaos.

There is purpose. There is meaning. Don't lose faith or get discouraged or allow your heart to be consumed with worry just because you can't figure out where it's all headed. And especially just because your expectations weren't met or your assumptions were proven wrong.

If you believe you are safe, then feel safe. If you believe you are able to succeed and to fail and still be okay... then go ahead and succeed, and fail, and try to enjoy every step of the process.

Don't panic.
Don't worry.
Don't second-guess.
Don't freak out.
Don't feel trapped.
Don't get angry.

You have so many things to feel grateful for, to count as blessings in your life. Why not embrace those things and enter each moment with a smile and an easy heart?

about 5 years, 3 months, and 23 days

I met someone last night who is recently back from being stationed in Fallujah for 10 months. He was talking about how difficult it has been to adjust, and it made me think about how difficult the transition between military and civilian life must be in the midst of combat operations.

Physical, psychological, and emotional necessities in wartime can be at odds with the societal expectations and cultural norms faced upon returning home. Not to mention that - with any war or military action - not everyone supports being involved. And so to face anger or frustration, confusion or denial, or any range of emotions in response to one's efforts and values must be terribly difficult.

I do not support the war in Iraq. I have not from the very first stirrings of WMDs and talk of bringing democracy to the Middle East (which happened surprisingly early). I wish we were out, and I still feel anger at the decisions made by this particular administration that I believe have left us more vulnerable both domestically and internationally.

BUT, I support with all of my heart the many people who have chosen to serve in the military and have been posted in Iraq (and Afghanistan) because they believe in what they are doing and feel it is the right thing to do.

Although it's hard to know which stats to trust, the estimated number of soldiers killed since the war began in 2003 is 4118, 3355 of whom were killed in combat. The estimated casualties for Iraqi soldiers and civilians is even higher. For someone who does not support this action, those numbers are numbing, painful, and heartbreaking.

Meanwhile, those who come back are facing inadequate care, very little help in way of transitioning back into civilian life, and the difficult emotional turmoil of a country who is not unanimously committed to the fight.

I didn't say thank you to this young man last night, and I probably should have. I sometimes feel there is no way to adequately convey my gratitude to someone who has chosen to do something with which I strongly disagree, but which I honor and respect deeply.

It would be nice to live in a Utopian world where wars never occurred and soldiers were not necessary... but it seems that is a long way off. Until then, I will continue to petition Congress, try to stay informed, strive to react and interact with compassion and respect, and remember to express my gratitude to those who choose to serve while praying for the safety of all involved, as well as peace for all those affected.

Four little birds (by our doorstep)...

We have a little family of robins living on our front porch. They were incredibly persistent about building the nest and won out when we went to Chicago for a weekend. We returned home from our trip to find them settled in and well established, so we decided to just cross our fingers and hope for a pleasant and symbiotic relationship.

Two wee babies appeared a few days ago, and we've been lucky enough to see two teeny tiny faces atop thin, long necks craning out above the rim with eager, wide open beaks in search of food. Typically, mama is either off in search of goodies or has flown away in fear of us. So we try to make our business quick and peek out from the living room window in order to watch the new babies eat.

I am grateful they chose to nest at our home. I am even more grateful they've chosen to live peacefully with us, rather than dive-bombing us our Ari in an attempt to keep their newborns safe. Perhaps they understand how much we respect them, and they see we have our own young to protect as they struggle to watch over their own.

b.f.f.l.y.l.a.s.t.t.f.n.

I must sing the praises of my Beckys today. I have two friends named Becky, and they are both incredible people and two of the main reasons I have stayed even moderately sane through this crazy journey of parenthood/renovation/grad school. My daughter has claimed them as "her friends," and she calls them "the two" because they are the two Beckys.

We've been really lucky to have a lot of help while here, and I think sometimes in the midst of feeling stressed or lonely or overwhelmed or freaked out, we tend to overlook it. Sort of like missing the forest for the trees... or the other way around.

But getting up at 4:30am in order to come and stay with a likely-to-be sleepy and disoriented 2 year-old before working for four hours and then being in class for another four hours, just so your friend's husband can drive her to Marion for eye surgery and be there for morale support is the hallmark of a true friend. As is driving materials from class over after work and class of your own so that said surgery recipient can try and keep up with things.

Sometimes the generosity of others blows me away. I hope I have been similarly generous, though I fear I have not... but I certainly strive to continually improve my ability to give freely and with love.

Argh... the class won!

So I forgot to blog last night. Just completely forgot in the midst of doing assignments for the summer class I'm taking right now.

It's a very intense course, and I'm not sure I was really ready to take it given all that happened at the end of the semester and all that is coming up this summer. But it's been a great learning experience, and I feel it's revealed certain things to me about myself that merit change and growth.

So although I'm sad I've started losing track of things like laundry and blogging and shopping and keeping in touch with folks... I'm very grateful for the ways in which it will improve me professionally and personally.

But I will be glad when it's over, and even happier when I've turned in my final two papers.

Gratitude

What does it mean when we receive "thanks" from others? How does it impact you to know you have made a difference in someone else's life... even if it's just a tiny glimmer of hope or a brief moment of emotional calm? What does it mean to feel valued? To feel your efforts are worthwhile and carry a greater purpose beyond your own limited imaginings?

I think sometimes we choose to do things that feel as if they are in vain. Or they are selfishly motivated. Or that - even if we have an inkling they may impact other people on some higher level - we don't truly believe it will be that big of a deal. It's just me. Doing what I do. Or doing what I think I'm supposed to be doing. Even though I have absolutely no idea what to do and am just totally making it up as I go along.

My guess is, we all share that boat sometimes... sailing out in unsheltered, uncharted waters. Trying to find our way with a wonky compass and a vessel that feels too small and too untested for the task ahead.

But you do matter. That's my belief, at least. You impact hundreds of thousands of lives in the course of your one lifetime... and you touch people every day. Now, maybe sometimes you spread ripples of frustration, or fear, or anxiety, or anger. But - I'm guessing - you also send out ripples of kindness, caring, generosity, creativity, and beauty.

We all want to feel like we matter. Not only to ourselves, but to others as well. And the funny thing... the very humanly paradoxical thing is: We all do. Without even trying. We're all spun together in this chaotic, quixotic, chimeric, and often silly event called life... and so our actions (be they small or large) inevitably shift the world around us.

So what will you do with all that power? What is the balance between personal and social responsibility? Between selfishness and selflessness? What is the path you choose to tread if you know it is not all in vain?

You do matter. You are making a difference.

Thank you.