Ageless Passions by Karen Putz

Category: Unwrap Your Passion

  • When are You Going to Start Living?

    This morning, I came across a post written by Bronnie Ware who worked in palliative care for many years.  It is a post that I think everyone should read:

    Top Five Regrets of the Dying

    To sum it up, the top five regrets are:

    • I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me
    • I wish I didn’t work so hard
    • I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings
    • I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends
    • I wish that I had let myself be happier

    In the last weeks before my dad passed away, we reflected back a bit on his life.  One of the big highlights was a trip we took to Hawaii.  That trip was a result of a casual conversation in the spring of 2008.  “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” I asked him.  He had always wanted to visit Pearl Harbor.

    “So what’s stopping you?” I asked.

    Oh, someday I’ll go, he said.  Dad served two years in World War II and he wanted to see the place that altered the course of his life as a teen.  We continued to talk about our “someday” dreams.  Then I stopped and looked at him.  “This ‘someday’ you’re talking about,  really, what’s stopping you?” I wanted to know.  “Why don’t you plan a trip? You’re not getting any younger and someday you might not be able to move around,” I joked.

    And then I got serious. “And this ‘someday’ might not happen if you wait around for it too long.”

    “Ok, fine, you plan it, then!” he smiled.  The next thing he knew, I booked airline tickets to Hawaii and my sister arranged for a hotel.  A few weeks later, we were on a plane to Hawaii. We spent the first two days at Pearl Harbor.  Dad was filled with war stories and he really opened up.  My mom, my sister and I– we soaked it all in.  We knew how important this trip was to him. We went to the Dole Plantation where we feasted on pineapple ice cream, rode the train and walked in a glorious garden with amazing flowers.  We took a boat ride on the other side of Oahu, where we saw a whale.  We took a sunset cruise on a cloudy night, but for a few glorious moments, the clouds parted and we captured the most amazing sunset.

    And days before he fell into a coma from the cancer, we talked about that trip to Hawaii.  The memories were sweet ones. “Thank God we did that trip,” I said. “I’m glad we didn’t put it off for ‘someday.’”

     

    There’s a little ditty that I came across awhile back and the author is unknown.  The words are profound:

    First, I was dying to finish my high school and start college.
    And then I was dying to finish college and start working.

    Then I was dying to marry and have children.
    And then I was dying for my children to grow old enough so I could go back to work.

    But then I was dying to retire.
    And now I am dying…

    And suddenly I realized…
    I forgot to live.

    So let me ask you, what are you putting off for “someday?”  When are you going to start living?

     

     

     

     

     

  • What Barefooting Taught Me About Life

    A year and half ago– March, 2010 — when I put my feet down on the water for the first time at the World Barefoot Center, I had no clue how much my life was going to change from that moment. That morning, I almost wanted to chicken out. I was nervous about being in a boat with people I didn’t know, I didn’t want to be seen in a bathing suit, and deep down, I was afraid to try– and fail. So when I woke up to a rainstorm that morning, I was secretly relieved. Maybe the whole thing would be canceled, I thought. I don’t know who answered the phone at the World Barefoot Center, but they reassured me that they could ski in all kinds of weather and that it was supposed to clear up.

    Sure enough, the weather cleared up and I found myself in the boat with two-time World Barefoot Champion Keith St. Onge,  the world’s oldest female barefoot competitor Judy Myers and several others.  As I watched skier after skier do trick after trick on the water, I wanted to crawl out of the boat and head back home.  The flip-flop of nerves came up over and over again that afternoon at every step of the process.  I alternated between “I can do this!” and “I can’t do this!” Half of me was excited; the other half of me was wondering what the heck I was doing down in Florida with a bunch of people with talent way over my head.

    Had I given into the nerves, I would have missed out on the most incredible life transformation that unfolded.  In a  year and half, I went from not being able to do a deep water start– to competing in four tournaments, complete with sponsors.

    How many of us have missed opportunities in life because we give in to doubts, nerves or fear?

    Last week, Judy said to me, “You have to pay your dues.” This remark came after I experienced some frustration at the lack of progress on the water after trying the same simple trick over and over (left one foot)– ending in crash after crash. If you want to accomplish something in life, you have to put in the time, effort, practice, work, sweat and toil, — and sometimes the only progress comes after years of experience– and putting in your dues over and over, until you reach that place of success. The key is to not give up in the process.

    Last summer, I spent the entire summer trying to conquer a deep water start. I achieved one successful start in June and I triumphantly texted Judy about my accomplishment. “Backwards, here we come!” Judy texted back. (Backwards? Are you crazy?)

    I thought I’d breeze through the rest of the summer. Instead, I was met with one failed start after another, the entire summer long. I became pretty skilled at riding on my butt, though.

    Dave, my oldest son, pulled me through start after start, over and over. He consoled me when I dissolved in tears one night. “I can’t do this,” I told him. But he reassured me that tomorrow was another day and we’d try again. And sure enough, I accomplished it. But then I went right back to square one and rode my butt for weeks after that. One step forward, twenty steps back.

    Yup, barefooting is a lot like life.

    I sent my brother a picture of my first back toe hold. My brother is a former barefooter– he’s off the water now due to a cracked vertebrae (like me, he also lost some hearing in a footin fall). “Wow!” he wrote. “I could never do that!”

    Here’s the thing: I said the exact same thing when I watched other people doing toe holds on the water.  I remember watching Judy do a toe hold and thinking, Gosh that looks so hard. I could never do that!

    And how much do we hold ourselves back in life by thinking in limits?

    How many of us have looked at someone who is successful and wished for that same success… without understanding the journey that came before success? Before I could get that snapshot of a back toe hold, Keith stripped me back to basics. Backward on one foot. Backward with my foot in the air. Backward with my foot touching the rope. Backward with the foot on the rope and one hand in the air. And then I had to work on the dreaded left foot backwards. The result? Crash after crash into the water.  Then little by little, I worked my way toward  success.

    Crashes are not failures… and stumbles in life are not failures… you learn from them. You learn what causes them– then you take a different course of action. And like Judy says, you pay your dues. You put the effort and time in to gain experience and little by little, you accomplish your goals and achieve success.

    And speaking of crashes: A Whack on the Head.

  • Unwrap Your Passion, And Happiness Will Follow

    (Originally posted as a guest blog on Happiness Inside, which is now closed)

    Earlier this year, I pursued a passion that was long buried inside of me. I didn’t even realize how long it was buried until I began to unwrap it on my 44th birthday last year.

    I was sitting on the pontoon at my parent’s lake, thinking back to some of the best memories of my life. I was rather down at that moment, so I wanted to conjure up some memories that included some happy times. I thought back to my teen years. I learned to water ski on my bare feet shortly after my sixteenth birthday. What a thrill that was! I spent the next three years barefooting with the guys on Christie Lake. Every single time that I went out on the water, I was happy.

    One day, when I was nineteen, I decided to go out and practice some wake crossings. I caught a toe and slammed into the water in a not-so-graceful cartwheel. In an instant, I went from hard of hearing to deaf. When I climbed into the boat and started talking to my friends, I couldn’t hear myself talk. I just figured that I had water in my ears and that the hearing I had left would return.

    It didn’t.

    At first, adjusting to being deaf was a horrible struggle. There were many days and nights that I cried. One day, I came to the realization that I could either do battle every day, or I could embrace this new identity as a deaf person and get on with life. From that moment, another passion was unwrapped. I learned American Sign Language and a rich world opened up filled with deaf and hard of hearing friends. Happiness arrived with that new-found passion. Most of my career since graduating from college has centered around helping others who are deaf and hard of hearing. I started and ran a non-profit organization, Illinois Hands and Voices and began providing mentoring services through the state’s Early Intervention program. Along the way, I uncovered a passion for birth and I attended several home and hospital births as a doula. Every birth filled me with incredible happiness inside.

    Fast forward to October of last year: my husband sent me a link to the Today Show segment featuring Judy Myers, a 66-year-old woman who learned to barefoot water ski at the age of 53. I connected with her and she invited me to come to the World Barefoot Center to learn to barefoot again. The very moment that I put my feet on the water, I was filled with incredible joy. The sport that had brought both happiness and sadness in my life was now filling me with happiness again.

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    At the World Barefoot Center, I met Keith St. Onge, the owner and a two-time World Barefoot Champion. Keith learned to barefoot at the age of ten and by time he was thirteen, he knew he wanted to follow his passion for the sport. He has competed since he was eleven, turned pro at eighteen and runs the ski school and a wetsuit company. The sport has brought him all over the world and he has been featured on ESPN, CNN and in several magazines.

    “Barefoot water skiing is my passion—it’s what I wanted to do since I was thirteen,” Keith shared. “I wanted to be the greatest. I wanted to be a pro the same way that young kids want to be a fireman. And I get to fuel my passion every day. When I’m on the water on my bare feet—it’s a feeling of complete freedom. When you fuel your passion–passion brings happiness—they feed off each other.”

    I recently had the opportunity to talk with Keith’s mom, Jackie St. Onge and I asked her to share her thoughts on passion.

    “Passion is your joy,” Jackie explained. “It is the essence of who you are. You have to unwrap it and find it. Some people find it easier than others. The body and the mind and the soul become one when you find your passion. Passion comes naturally to a person. It is like running water: turn on the tap and it flows.”

    Passion and happiness are intertwined. When you discover your passion and incorporate it into your life, happiness follows. If you’re not sure how to answer the question, “What is your passion?” you can find the answer by reflecting on the happy and joyful times in your life. What fires you up? What feeds your soul? What puts a smile on your face in the morning and a deep sense of satisfaction and joy when your head hits the pillow at night?

    Passion is inside each and every one of us. Unwrap yours.


    Copyright Karen Putz, November 2010

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  • Living Life with Appreciation and Gratitude

    When I arrived home after Dad died, there was a pile of mail sitting on the counter.  It took me a few days before I sat down and finally opened the cards one by one.  One card, in particular, stood out.  It was sent by AnnMarie Mickelson, my friend from Georgia.  On the cover, was a picture I had taken of my hand clasping my father’s hand.  I had taken the picture shortly before he died and posted it to Facebook with the message, “Thanks for 45 years Dad–I’m going to miss you.”

    AnnMarie also included a picture that I had taken from a flight.  Here’s the card:

     

    AnnMarie used a service called Send Out Cards to create this customized, personal card.   I also received another Send Out Card, this one from Glenda Watson Hyatt, a friend of mine from Canada.  Glenda has cerebral palsy, a disability that makes it difficult for her to write.  Send Out Cards was an easy way for her to create a customized card.  She sent me a card with a picture of a sunset from her recent trip to Hawaii (I love sunsets!).

    Intrigued, I wanted to learn more about Send Out Cards, so I opened an account.  I found that I really enjoyed creating cards and surprising folks here and there with a little appreciation and gratitude.  Losing Dad brought that on, for sure– a whole new appreciation for the people who cross my path on this life journey.   Kody Bateman, the founder of Send Out Cards, had a similar revelation when he ignored a gut feeling to share some love with his brother and shortly afterwards, he lost his brother.  That’s how Send Out Cards was born.  Here’s an excerpt from his story:

    Send Out Cards came into existence because of a story, the story of my brother Kris and how I ignored a prompting to say goodbye to him before I moved away.   Shortly after moving away, a phone call revealed the tragic news that he had been killed.   I hung up the phone after hearing this news and realized that this particular story would change my life.  I set out to search for meaning in the story of my brother’s death.  In that search, I made some promises to my brother.  I promised him that I would act on my promptings from then on and find a way to help others do the same.  This became a collected story in my life and it guided my efforts for the next 18 years.  Today, Send Out Cards is the result of that collected story.

    Take a moment to read my previous post, how taking just a second to tell someone how special they are can last a lifetime in their mind:

    A Second That Lasts a Lifetime

    I joined AnnMarie at Send Out Cards, and together, we’re sharing Send Out Cards with others.  This week, we’re toying around with the Send Out Cards video cards– where you can send videos via a card!  Imagine sending a video of a newborn baby to grandparents living in another state.  Or a video tour of your brand new house to a friend who lives in another country.  Or a special message in American Sign Language to a special someone in  your life.

    I was never good at sending cards or remembering birthdays until I started using Send Out Cards.  Now I finally have all of my contacts in one place and a birthday reminder alert.  And a few weeks ago, I received an alert for a friend’s birthday.  I was in another state, with no car– but sending a card and a gift took all of a few minutes.  I snagged a picture off Facebook, designed a customized card, selected a book and sent the whole thing off with the touch of a few keys.

    With Send Out Cards, the possibilities are endless– the connections that result, priceless.  Don’t wait until it’s too late.

    Don’t wait until it’s too late to connect with someone– send them a card today.  The first one is on us.  If you’d like to join our team (I work from a pontoon on a lake and AnnMarie works from an Anytime Fitness gym!) contact me at karen (at) karenputz (dot) com.

    Karen Putz — Passion Pursuits

    AnnMarie Mickelson — Amjon

    Some of the cards we’ve sent:

     

  • What Are You Capable Of?

    “If we did all the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.” — Thomas Edison

    I came home from Florida today to find the quote above on Kevin Hall’s Facebook page.   Kevin is the author of one of my absolute favorite books:  Aspire, Discovering Your Purpose Through the Power of Words. Kevin is full of inspirational quotes on his Facebook page and I’ve treasured many of the quotes he shares in his book as well.   His quote today by Thomas Edison made me think back to a year ago this month.  I went down to the World Barefoot Center and got back on the water again.  Life hasn’t been the same since.

    How many of us hold back because we have a million and one excuses of why we can’t accomplish something that seems so beyond our reach?  How many of us even try?  How many of us wishfully want to do something but we resign ourselves to the idea that it’s beyond our capabilities?

    Yeah, that was me a year ago.  If you told me back in March of last year that I would be barefoot water skiing backwards on my feet a year later, I would have slapped my thigh a couple of times and laughed you out of town. “That’s impossible,” I would have said.  “I’m not capable of that!”

    Because you see, this was me a year ago, hanging on the boom and putting my feet in the water for the first time in many years:

    Now remember that quote by Edison above? I’ve learned some incredible lessons in the past year. I had no idea what I was capable of until I started to explore the limits and push past some of the boundaries in my mind. How do you know what the limits are, until you push past them? It wasn’t just barefooting, it applied to many other areas of life as well. “You’re just having a mid-life crisis,” one friend told me as she shook her head. I couldn’t quite agree with her. I call it a mid-life “awakening,” and I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for the people who’ve crossed my path and joined me on this awakening– the ones who push me to new limits and tell me “Yes, you certainly can!” Because you see, Kevin Hall has another inspirational quote that he often shares, one by Joseph Campbell: “When you follow your bliss, you put yourself on the track that has been there all the while… you begin to meet people who are in the field of your bliss, and they open doors to you.”

    How true this has been in the past year–I’ve met so many amazing people in the path of following bliss that so many doors flew wide open as a result. And little by little, I began stretching the limits of what I thought I was capable of with the help of the wonderful folks who have crossed my path.

    A year ago, indeed, I would have thought it was impossible to even imagine myself barefooting backwards on my feet, but that’s just what I found myself doing this week:

    So let me ask you, what are you holding back on? Let yourself be astounded by the things you can do. Start today to move yourself toward your bliss.

  • The “Second” That Lasts a Lifetime

    I came across the tweet on Twitter:  “Thought Of The Day:  It only takes a second to make someone feel special, but that second may last a lifetime in their mind.  The tweet was produced by Steve Harper, a guy who specializes in teaching  The Ripple Effect: Maximizing the Power of Relationships for Life & Business (Second Edition).

    Funny, I couldn’t get that tweet out of mind.  I copied it and saved it, because I knew a blog post was brewing from it.   I thought back to one of my religion school teachers, Mrs. Marshall.    She taught a class that prepared a group of us for our confirmation at St. Mary’s Church in Dolton.   One Saturday morning, the class was being especially rowdy that day.   The boys were boisterous and creating havoc in the classroom and Mrs. Marshall was quickly losing control.   All of her attempts to settle down the class were falling on deaf ears.   She finally resorted to raising her voice and losing her patience.  Everyone eventually settled down to do some paperwork that she handed out.   Mrs. Marshall sat back in her chair and I saw tears in her eyes.

    My heart went out to her.  I got out a sheet of paper and quickly wrote her a note.  To this day, I don’t even remember what I wrote, but I wrote a couple of paragraphs about the situation in the classroom and that I thought she was a wonderful teacher.   I handed her the note after class had ended.

    At the start of the next class, Mrs. Marshall came up to me and thanked me for the note.   After my Confirmation in May, she sent me a thank you note for the flowers that I gave her.  In the note she shared:

    Congratulations on your Confirmation!  My wishes for you are these:

    When you are lonely, I wish you love.

    When you are down, I wish you joy.

    When you are troubled, I wish you peace.

    When things are complicated, I wish you simple beauty.

    When things are chaotic, I wish you inner peace.

    When things look empty, I wish you hope.

    And may the gifts of the Holy Spirit help you to have all of these throughout your whole life.  Thank you so much for the lovely flowers.  I wore them with so much pride.  And I was so proud of you.   Sincerely yours,  Mrs. Marshall.

    In July of that year, my father received a phone call.   “Mrs. Marshall died on Sunday,” he told me when I arrived home from a friend’s house.  “She had a severe asthma attack, followed by a stroke.  Her son called to tell you because she  had your letter in her hands when she passed away.  You were her favorite and that letter was special to her.”

    She was only 56 years old and left behind a husband,  three kids and a grandson.

    Which leads me back to that quote above.   “It only takes a second to make someone feel special, but that second may last a lifetime in their mind.”

    I never forgot Mrs. Marshall, but I had forgotten the note she wrote to me.  I found it a year ago, when it fell out from the back pages of my bible.   I passed the words on to a friend who was going through a difficult time in life.   There’s a powerful lesson here– taking  just a moment to tell someone that they are special can last a lifetime in their mind.   Thanks to Mrs. Marshall, that ripple goes on.

  • Decide That You Want It More Than You Fear It

    How many times have you held back because you feared something?

    I’ve been pondering “fears” lately.  Recently, I received a comment from a reader who is hard of hearing and struggling with anxiety– “Social groups are almost impossible at times,” she relates.   She has agreed to teach a weaving class in her community and is scared that she will have trouble getting through it with the communication challenges ahead of her.

    Boy, oh boy, can I relate.  Social situations, parties, group discussions– they used to strike fear inside of me and sometimes, they still do.   Communication in those situations becomes a rapid-fire ping-pong game– sometimes so fast that the ball is just a blur and you get nothing out of the game.

    I emailed the reader and this is what I shared with her:

    I can understand being scared about teaching the weaving class but let me tell you– you can do this!  At the beginning of the first class, be honest about your hearing loss and explain to the class what you need to make communication happen– that everyone has to face you when talking, to speak a bit slower and that if they need to get your attention– to raise their hand before they speak, etc.  It takes a tremendous amount of courage to do this but the rewards are great– students will adjust and you’ll have better access to communication and be able to share your skills with less anxiety about trying to follow everyone.  Communication is a two-way street but you have to teach others what you need to make that happen.

    In another email I shared:

    It’s ok to be nervous, just don’t let it prevent you from moving forward.  Face your fear head on.  My daughter sent me this picture at a time when I was dealing with some fears so I’m passing it on to you:

    Lauren sent me that photo during Women’s Barefoot Week at the World Barefoot Center.  She had no idea how timely that photo was.  I’ll have to back up a bit to explain.  In March, when I first went down to Lake Conine to learn how to barefoot again, one of the questions that I asked Keith St. Onge was, “Are there alligators in this lake?”

    Yup, that’s right.  I’m not too fond of alligators.  In fact, they downright scare the daylights out of me.  As long as they’re far away with a fence between me and their sharp teeth, I’m good.  When Lauren was in Girl Scouts, she came home with a picture of her holding a baby alligator.  I was very glad that I wasn’t there, or I would have had visions of the taped mouth coming undone and my little girl devored on the spot.   One year, Joe and I took the kids to an alligator attraction and I was happy when we finally left.

    Keith’s response to my question was simply, “Yes, but they don’t bother us.  The boat engine scares them away.”  I wanted to barefoot more than I was scared of the marine life, so off I went into the water.

    Then in the middle of Women’s week, I was sitting in the water after a barefoot run, waiting for the boat to come back and pick me up.   The boat was taking forever to idle back to me.  I turned around and stared into the open jaws of an alligator coming to attack me in the water…

    And then I woke up.

    That’s right, I had a nice little alligator nightmare.  I couldn’t fall back asleep for a long time after that.  The next morning, we did a photo shoot on the water.  I was sitting in the second boat, waiting for my turn on the water.  One of the gals pointed out an alligator swimming by.   The other boat began coming closer and the alligator disappeared.   I tried to put the image out of my mind, because I knew I had to get in the water.

    Come on, Karen, nothing’s going to happen.

    Well, what if I’m the first person to get attacked on this lake?

    Don’t be silly, the alligators are scared of boats, they’ll stay away.

    All too soon, it was my turn to get in the water and my legs were shaky.   I fell on my first attempt to get up and I tried to tumble around to get back up and finally let go.   David Small was driving and he asked me if I was nervous about the photo shoot.  I could only shrug– I wasn’t about to explain my silly alligator fears at that moment.

    Later that morning, I told Keith about the alligator nightmare and he grinned at me.  “Face your fears!” he told me.

    “I face my fears every time I get in the water,” I grumbled at him.  But he was right–when you face your fears, you move beyond them.

    But that night, I had another alligator nightmare.  This time, I was watching the alligator swimming closer to me and I tried to yell at everyone in the boat.  They were talking and laughing and too far away by the time the alligator chomped on me.   And then I woke up.

    Good grief.

    Lauren’s photo came that day.  “Decide That You Want It More Than You Fear It.”  I laughed when I saw the photo– laughed at how uncanny the universe is in delivering nuggets of wisdom into our lives.   She had no idea about the fears I was juggling that week– she simply saw the quote on someone’s Facebook status and decided to turn it into an inspirational picture.

    So the next time you face something that scares you or fears that hold you back from something you want to do, decide that you want it more than you fear it.   The next time I jump into Lake Conine, I’m not going to give alligators a second thought.

  • Aspire–Are You Living Your Life’s Purpose?

    The friend notification appeared like so many others.  “Kevin Hall wants to be friends on Facebook.”

    Kevin Hall?  The name wasn’t familiar to me.  I went on the internet to find out more.  A short time earlier, I connected with Chad Hymas, and discovered that they were good friends.  Kevin Hall, I learned, was a business consultant, speaker and the author of Aspire: Discovering Your Purpose Through the Power of Words.

    Intrigued, I accepted his friend request and shortly after, Kevin left a comment.  “I tried barefooting and ripped off some toenails in the process,” he wrote.  Of course, anyone who barefoots captures my attention these days.  I began visiting his page on a daily basis, buoyed by the positive quotes and sharing that he put forth.

    “Can you tell me more about you?” I asked in a direct message.

    Kevin wrote back, “My purpose in life is help others discover and fulfill their purpose. That is the objective of Aspire and we have been receiving some wonderful feedback on it. Please don’t hesitate to let me know how I can serve you. Namasté.”

    I don’t often order books since I prefer to use the library, but something inside of me told me to order his book.  I asked Kevin what made him reach out to connect with me on Facebook.

    “Probably just destiny,” he wrote.  “We are all connected Karen and we are all in this together trying to do our best to contribute and make a difference. Excited to hear your thoughts as you read Aspire.”

    I brought the book with me on my trip up to Wisconsin to barefoot with Joann O’Connor. There was no time to read, as we spent three days on the water.  After working a picnic for ZVRS, I woke up early the next day and decided to read the book and nurse my sore muscles with a hot bath.  Hours later, I finally emerged and I knew I was in the middle of a book that I would treasure for a long time.

    Kevin wrote the book centered around eleven words.  In the foreword by Stephen R. Covey titled “Finding Your Bliss,” he writes:

    The more you understand words and the layers within them, the more it helps you understand your path and purpose.

    Right after reading the very first chapter, I knew that it was indeed, destiny, that connected me to Kevin Hall.  Within the first chapter, I found a word that I wanted to share with my audience at the Family Support Conference which took place yesterday.

    “How many of you have heard of the word, ‘Genshai’?” I asked.

    Not a single hand went up.

    Genshai (pronounced GEN-shy) means simply that you never treat anyone else in a manner that makes them feel small.  This includes yourself.  Kevin kindly gave me a speech lesson via an interpreter on the videophone so that I could confidently pronounce it during my presentation.

    This word struck home with me because growing up, I measured myself against folks with normal hearing– simply because all of my friends and role models were people who could hear.  Thus, I felt small in some ways.  “If only I had normal hearing, I would do this… or do that…” I thought.  That view was occasionally reinforced by others who felt I couldn’t or shouldn’t do certain things because I was lacking the full sense of hearing.  In college, I wanted to become a labor and delivery nurse.  The counselor that I consulted gave me a hundred reasons why that profession was not right for me: the communication challenges would be too great and it would be hard to find anyone to hire me.  What a message! Of course, I felt small after leaving this session and this partly lead me to chose another profession.  A few years later, I met deaf doctors, deaf dentists, deaf lawyers… and of course, deaf nurses!

    I wanted the professionals, the parents, the deaf and hard of hearing adults in the audience to walk away with this word and incorporate it into everything they do when working with deaf and hard of hearing children.  The field is strife with communication wars, short-changed expectations and opposing camps who cannot sit down and connect with one another openly.  When you practice Genshai with everyone you meet, your mind is open to new possibilities and your heart listens.  You blaze a kinder path in your wake.

    After I closed the book, I had to ask myself, “Am I living my life’s purpose?”  I know I’m still the process of discovery with my life path.  I’ve done some wonderful things, but there’s a sense of so much more ahead– more that I want to experience and share.  I’m excited at the possibilities that lie ahead and I’m filled with joy at the things that I’m doing now.

    Thank you, Kevin, for reaching out on Facebook.

  • What I Learned from Laughter: Laughing at the Small Stuff

    Every now and then, I like to participate in Robert Hruzek’s group writing projects–they’re always a fun read!  This month’s subject focuses on:

    What I Learned from Laughter.

    At first, I thought I would just share the blog post I wrote over at Chicago Moms Blog:

    When Your Only Option is a Thong.

    When I wrote that one, several friends emailed me and told me they couldn’t stop laughing.  I wasn’t laughing too much when I wrote it, because I was overwhelmed at the laundry piles around my house.  But hey, I learned a valuable lesson from that episode: do your laundry on a regular basis and you won’t have to resort to thongs.  Or worse, commando, as Vicky once teased on Twitter.

    When I think about what I’ve learned from laughter, there’s one episode in my life that stands out.  When the three kids were younger, I often had days when I counted the minutes until the hubby would arrive home and provide an extra pair of eyes and hands in my quest to keep three kids in one place.

    My oldest kiddo, David, was often on hurricane cycle.  He would bounce from one activity to the next (like his Mom??) and leave a path of destruction in his wake.  I once put the baby down for a nap and left David and Lauren parked in front of the TV so I could quickly go to the bathroom.   I walked into the kitchen to find the two of them drawing wavy lines on the kitchen wall.  In a matter of seconds, David had grabbed some crayons off the counter and coerced his sister into drawing artwork on the flat white builder’s paint.  The artwork stayed on the wall for over a year– because neither the hubby nor I could muster up enough energy to paint over the crayon.

    One evening, David was a category five and my patience was long gone.  I was just trying to survive long enough until the hubby arrived home so I could hand off the kid duties to him.  The hubby arrived home and surveyed the toys strewn about, the lunch dishes on the table and me with the harried look on my face.  He could tell it was “one of those days.”

    After a hurried dinner, I filled the bathtub up and went to grab towels from the other bathroom.  As I walked back in, my eyes caught something floating in the bathtub.

    I screamed.

    It was a brand new book:  Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.

    I fished it out of the water, wiped as much of the wet stuff off as I could and started to cry.  I sat on the toilet and the tears kept coming.  Mothering three kids just two years apart had taken its toll and came crashing down on me at that moment.  Just then, David came over, climbed in my lap and started hugging me.

    “I love you Mommy.”  He hugged me again.

    My eyes went back to the book and I saw the title more clearly.  “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.”

    I started to laugh.

    Alternating between tears and laughter, I smiled at the irony of the whole thing.

    It is now years later– the little boy has grown into a young man– but I still have the book with the warped pages stuck together.  It’s a reminder of that hectic time of three kids under the age of four–when I thought the day would never end and I’d never have a minute to myself.  Today, the kids amuse themselves and there’s a little more time for me.  How quickly the time flies, how valuable that lesson of laughter is.

    Don’t sweat the small stuff.  And remember to laugh in the process.

  • What I Learned from Stress

    Over at Robert Hruzek’s place, Middle Zone Musings, the topic of today’s groupwrite project is:

    Now see, I could have stressed myself out and agonized over what picture to put up there, but what’d I do to eliminate the stress of finding one?  Why, I lifted Robert’s cute little stress picture right off his site!  Of course, that would be called, ahem, borrowing, wouldn’t it?

    It seems like everywhere we turn nowadays, the topic of stress pops up left and right.  “Ten Steps to Eliminate Stress from your Life!” screams one magazine.  “Live a Stress-Free Life,” urges another.  It’s no wonder that so many magazines are tackling the topic of stress:  with the stock market in the pits, food and health care soaring, and the housing market basically flat–these are stressful times, indeed.

    Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to experience a relatively stress-free weekend.  I got in the car and drove up to my parents’ house for the weekend.  I left behind the hubby and children (they were completely ok with that!) and it was my first time up at Christie Lake without them.   I was able to blast my John Denver/Kenny Rogers/Lonestar music without anyone imploring me to turn it down, or worse, to turn it off.

    Let me give you a glimpse of why it is so peaceful up at Christie Lake.  This is the view from my parents’ kitchen window:

    Peaceful, indeed.

    I spent the weekend painting the decks with my Dad and sis.  I had planned to winterize the jet ski and put it away for the winter after we finished up with the painting.  During all of Saturday morning, I was enjoying the sun and the paining was moving along.  The weather was incredible.  On Saturday afternoon, I started to feel some stress.  My neck was aching and my jaw was tensing up.   I was trying to figure out what was causing it and then I realized what it was:  I didn’t know how to winterize the jet ski and I was running out of time to figure it out.  I had read the owner’s manual over and over earlier in the week, but it might as well have been written in Greek.  Here’s an example of part of the winterizing process:

    Prior to inserting the ignition coil to its location, apply some Molykote 111 grease (P/N413 707 000) around the seal area that touches the spark plug hole.  After installation, ensure the seals seats properly with the engine top surface.

    Ignition coil?  Seals?  And where the heck were the spark plugs located?  No wonder I could feel the stress mounting that afternoon.  I had texted Leaders Marine the day before and asked if I could stop in so they could walk me through the process.  Sure, they said.

    I borrowed my Dad’s truck and hooked up the jet ski and drove to the marine shop.  My Mom came with.  Along the way, we talked about a bunch of things and ironically, the subject of stress came up.

    “Remember that piece of advice you gave me a long time ago,” I asked my Mom.  “You told me that you used to worry and be stressed out and then you realized you were wasting a lot of time worrying.”

    And then Mom finished the thought.  “Yes, everything always has a way of working out, it just always does.  So why get all worked up about it.  I look back at all the years that I was stressed out about something or other.  I didn’t have to worry so much.”

    Well, Mom’s advice has stuck with me through the years and when I find myself stressed out, I have to ask myself– what is the solution?  What is the worse possible thing that could happen?  What can I change right now to ease the way I feel?

    So much for being stressed out about the winterizing process.  The mechanic from the marine shop walked me through the steps a few times until I felt confident that I could do it.  Dad helped me finish the process and we put the jet ski back in the shed and put all the neighbor’s boats back in.

    “I just hope I did this right,” I said to my Dad.

    “Well, no use worrying about it,” he said.  “We’ll find out in the spring.”