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As I stood waiting in the lobby of our downtown office building, a homeless man shuffled in from the dark, cold city street.  His clothes were rumpled, and he walked with a slight limp.  Over one arm, he carried a plastic bag with his meager belongings.  I noticed that the glasses he wore were skewed to one side, missing part of the frame that was meant to hold them up.

The security guard at her desk looked up.  Her face softened as she spoke, “Good morning Roger.  Are you okay?  Is there something I can do for you?”  Roger peered behind his tilted glasses that were beginning to fog in the heat of the lobby. There was a sadness in his time-worn face.  He said he had lost his medicine and couldn’t get the ATM machine to work.  He was cold and he was tired.  I stood there frozen as they exchanged words, not wanting to be a part of their conversation.  Not wanting to get involved. I was apprehensive.  I wanted to leave but instead, I looked at the floor, shuffled my feet, and waited.  The guard told Roger to have a seat in the lobby and warm up.

Roger nodded silently, shuffled over to an uncomfortable-looking chair, and sat.  The guard told me that Roger often lost his medication.  That he didn’t have any family, and no one checked on him.  He had a few “friends” who would come around when Roger had money, but they didn’t treat him very well.  She said he was a nice man but that most people thought he was just a drunk on the street.  Then she looked at me and said, “Everyone has a story.  I just try to help out the people that I can”.

I got on the elevator and headed to my office and thought about what she had said.  We all have a story.  Every single one of us.  And, we share our stories in different ways.  Some good, some not so good.  Some share their story through anger and aggression.  This is not an excuse for poor behavior but simply recognition that their actions tell a part of a bigger story that we might not know.  Some of us tell our story by standing on the sidelines, not wanting to become involved.  We tell our story through our action and our inaction.  We tell our story by how we live our lives.

How we tell our story, how we communicate, how we treat others, tells the story of who we are.  Of what we think is important.  What is valuable to us and what is worthy of our time.  When we take care of one another, extend a hand, help someone out, it tells the story of who we are in a most humble and sincere way.

We are all storytellers.  Including the guard at my building.  I saw her tell her story in how she extended compassion to the man off the street.  I saw it in her face, I heard it in her voice, and I witnessed it in her actions.   If only we could all be so respectful and giving.  If only we too could share our stories in brave new ways that pull us together rather than tear us apart. If we could get over our own doubts and fears long enough to give more of ourselves.  If we could shine our light so bright that we could illuminate a path for others to follow.  If we could open our hands to someone in need and in so doing realize that we have opened our own hearts.  If we could do all these things and more, that would indeed be a story worth telling.

I have a confession to make.  I am a recovering perfectionist.  I have been a perfectionist for most of my life and quite frankly, I always thought this was a good quality to have.  During job interviews, I always listed being a perfectionist as one of my top attributes.  I prided myself on being a perfectionist and always having things done “just right”.  I liked to start every new year striving for perfection.

I would have never believed that this would be something I would need to recover from.  That I would eventually need to give up my grandiose ideas of being a perfectionist. 

Today is January 8^th.  How many of us have already “messed up” our New Year’s resolutions because we haven’t perfectly done what we set out to do?  I am guessing that it’s a good number of us.  How do I know that?  Because there is no such thing as perfection.  Perfection is an illusion, and we waste a good amount of time chasing it. 

I have been writing poems and stories for as long as I can remember.  I wrote my first book “The Dark Pony” when I was six years old.  I have had a passion for writing my entire life.  However, my quest for perfection, until now, had held me back.  I was petrified of letting people read my imperfect stories.  And, since I never thought they were perfect, I never did anything with them.  I put them in binders and stacked them in notebooks.  I saved them on the computer, but I never dared to share them.  My quest for perfectionism was keeping me stuck.

When I started my blog, however, I knew that I couldn’t strive for perfection any longer.  I was going to have to settle for good enough.  Because nothing was ever going to perfect in my mind.  Going from “perfect” to “good enough” was a huge step for me.  It was also a big relief.  The pressure of perfection is maddening.  Not to mention unattainable.

So, nowadays, I settle for good enough.  And that goes for everything.  My writing.  Working out at the gym.  My eating habits.  Not being locked into perfection means I have the freedom to be imperfect, to make mistakes, and to start over.  I have the freedom to be human.  I would much rather be published and good enough than always striving for the illusion of perfection.

So, if you’re like me, and you’ve already blown your perfect record for 2021, give yourself a break.  Have you blown your diet?  Pick yourself up and dust off the cookie crumbs.  Missed a day at the gym?  Breathe a sigh of relief, grab your tennis shoes, and just go for a walk.  Be happy that you don’t have to be a perfectionist any longer and join the good enough club.  I guarantee that if you have enough “good enough” days they will always outweigh the “perfect” days in anything that you do.  Because, as I said, perfection doesn’t exist anyway.

Here’s hoping you have a good enough 2021!   

So much remains unresolved.  So many are in turmoil.  And, it seems, so few have the time to be concerned for anyone but themselves.  And, to top it off, Christmas is only a couple of days away. 

Last night, however, I slipped outside with my family to witness a rare event.  It was Jupiter and Saturn lining up in the sky so closely that they resembled one bright shining star.  Standing and shivering on our front lawn we looked up in wonder at what some were calling the Christmas Star or the Star of Bethlehem. 

As we stood there in the dark fiddling with my daughter’s telescope, I wondered what it was that I hoped to see.  What is was that I hoped for.

I suppose that each year my hope at Christmas is that people will set aside their differences and truly remember the reason for the season.  To remember that a tiny baby came into our world into times much like ours today.  So much was unresolved.  So many were in turmoil.  And, yet, He came to save us and set us free.

Sometimes I believe it’s hard to feel the true expectancy and love of Christmas because we have buried it under the shopping and wrapping and pressures of the material holiday we have created.  But as I gazed up into the inky black sky last night, I suddenly felt a renewal that I didn’t expect to feel.  Even as the star drifted out of sight, I wondered if I could be looking at the same star the magi saw when they made their way to Bethlehem.  The same star that Jesus Christ lay beneath so many years ago.  It was a perfectly odd and wonderful thought. 

As we gathered our things to head inside, I thought again to myself, Christmas is only a couple of days away.  But this time, rather than conjuring lists of things to do, it made me smile.  We may very well be at our wits end.  Thank God that Christmas is only a few days away.  We are in turmoil.  Thank God Christmas is almost here.  So much is unresolved.  Thank God for the love of Christmas.  It is exactly what we need right now to renew our spirits and restore our joy and to give us peace.  Because that is exactly what Christmas was meant to do.  And we have never needed it more than we do right now.

When I was six years old, I saw Santa Claus.  Not at the mall and not at a JC Penny photo session, but in my house.  It was Christmas Eve. It was late at night and it was dark.  I crept out of my bed and into the living room.  The Christmas tree was brightly lit and Santa was bending over putting packages beneath it.  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  He looked up at me briefly, nodded and then turned his attention back to the large bag he was carrying.

The next morning, I could barely contain my excitement.   I remember telling my parents that Santa had come to visit the night before.  “Sure, sure, of course he did!” they exclaimed.  It was, after all, Christmas.  “Yes, and I saw him! He was here! Right here under the tree.”  My parents looked dubiously at each other, smiled and shrugged their shoulders.  I could see that they didn’t believe my story but certainly wanted to play along.  Yet, I wanted them to be as excited as I was.  I wanted them to feel what I was feeling.

You see, even to this day, I can vividly remember seeing Santa Claus that Christmas Eve.  And, it wasn’t my dad in a Santa suit.  It was a dream, I suppose, or a vision of Santa. A very real Santa with a real beard, wire-rimmed glasses and eyes that twinkled behind them.  A real Santa with rosy red cheeks and black shiny boots still dripping wet from the snow that had fallen the day before.  

I have been told that I have a very vivid imagination.  At times, an over-active imagination.  That I think too much and that my dreams are just plain crazy.  So, that certainly may have been the case with my imaginative Santa sighting.  Ebenezer Scrooge would have said that he was most likely “an undigested bit of beef” that evening and I certainly cannot dispute that.

However, the memory I have of seeing Santa is one that I have never forgotten.  It was incredibly magical and will be etched in my mind forever.  And that one memory, that one dream, keeps me believing in things when our weary world says there is no magic left in it.

There is a line from one of my favorite movies, Secondhand Lions, where Robert Duvall gives a speech to a young boy.  He says, “ Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things that a man needs to believe in the most: that people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love, true love, never dies. You remember that. No matter if they’re true or not, a man should believe in those things because those are the things worth believing in.”

I have watched that movie on countless occasions and that speech touches my heart every single time.  Because some things are worth believing in whether they are true or not.  Believing in love and the spirit of Christmas.  Believing that there is still integrity in the world.  Believing that people are inherently good.  Believing that there is a God who loves us. These are the beliefs that keep me going.  These are things worth believing in.  And, yes, I believe that the spirit of Santa Claus, of keeping Christmas alive in your heart, is something worth believing in too.

“Give thanks.  Appreciate what you do have…the more we give thanks, the more we receive to be thankful for. Gratitude is the gift that always gives back.” – Matthew McConaughey

This week I am taking a tip from Matthew on gratitude.  Here are the top five things I am grateful for as Thanksgiving 2020 approaches. 

1.  Thank God Grandma finally figured out “How to Zoom” and we have been able to stay in touch during the pandemic!  Technology has kept our families, schools, and workplaces connected.  And, I think we all have a new appreciation for teachers and the difficult work they do now that we have experienced the rapid expansion of digital learning.

2.  How about three cheers for the return of family time!  With kids and parents at home all day long, families are rediscovering each other.  They’re hanging out together, playing games, reading books, and even cooking together.  Why I’ve even heard about families who are consistently sitting down at a predetermined time to eat food together.  They call it “the family dinner”!  Why didn’t we think of this sooner?

3.  Lots of furry friends have found homes.  Many people adopted pets during the quarantine as well as donated money and supplies to rescue organizations.  The number of people signing up to foster pets has risen as well.  Whether it’s because of the increased time available to care for an animal or wanting to alleviate anxiety a good number of furballs have become a source of comfort during these uncertain times.

4.  Random acts of kindness are on the rise.  During a crisis, it’s easy to focus on stories that highlight the worst human behavior.  However, it is exactly during these times that random acts of kindness are literally booming.  It’s human nature to want to band together and help one another.  I have read multiple stories of people supporting each other in small ways.  I am thankful that the connections that bind us together are still strong.

5.  And, finally, I am incredibly thankful that many workers will have Thanksgiving Day off this year to spend at home with their families.  For nearly the last ten years, stores have opened their doors early for Black Friday sales.  This year a good majority of them will remain closed on Thanksgiving Day.  Whether it is purely due to COVID19 or a gift to employees who have been working the frontlines all year, I truly think this is something to be thankful for.

There are so many things to be thankful for right now, even during a pandemic, you just need to look for them.  Finding gratitude in our daily lives is one of the simplest and most effective ways to find joy.  Take some time to focus on the things that resonate with you.  Peace and joy be with you this Thanksgiving.

When I was a kid, it wasn’t often that I would pass a fountain or pond that I didn’t find myself digging into my pocket for some change.  I would close my eyes, make a quick wish, and toss my coin into the water.  I loved to stand and look at the glittering pennies beneath the surface and wonder what wishes had been attached to them.

I can remember wishing to not have to wear glasses or never have to eat liver for dinner again.  As I got a little older, I wished for pollution to end and for the whales to be saved.  There always seemed to be something to wish for.

Of course, I realize that wishes are just dreams. We don’t really expect something to happen just because we toss a nickel into a fountain.  But even so, in making a wish, I find that I focus on something that I would like to have happen.  Something that has some meaning for me.  And, for a split second, I have a “what if” moment.  An instant where I entertain the possibility of my wish coming true.  And, what if it did?

One of my dreams is to publish a children’s book.  Now, I could certainly find a fountain and toss in a quarter and wish for this to happen, but it probably wouldn’t work any better than my wish for “no liver at dinner”.

What I can do, however, is make a commitment to achieving that dream and take the necessary steps toward it.   Surround myself with those who have accomplished what I want to accomplish and learn from them. Every success story has left a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Find someone who is doing what you want to do and walk in their steps.  You don’t have to blaze a new trail when there are so many paths already available to you.

I can also join a critique group or a writing club.  It’s helpful to make yourself accountable.  Let people know what you are doing so that you are held responsible for what you are trying to achieve. 

And, most important of all, enjoy what you are doing.  Truly indulge in your dream and find the joy in it.  Following our dreams should make us happy first and foremost.  Anything that happens beyond that is a bonus.  Stop focusing on how it will work, or won’t work, or even how you will make money at it.  If you love what you are doing, the rest will follow.

Adults don’t typically indulge in wish-making; however, I do believe that wishes can show us where our dreams lie.  Because wishes come from our hearts and our hearts always speak the truth.  Our hearts are here to guide us and move us forward.  So, ask your heart what it wants, listen to it, and follow it.  It will never lead you astray.

If you have a dream in your heart, it’s never too late to put your heart in your dreams. 

My dad loved popcorn.  He would make it on the stovetop, douse it with melted butter and dump it into a giant metal bowl.  Whenever he pulled that bowl from the cupboard, I knew what he was up to.  After he passed away, I asked my stepmother for the bowl.   She pulled it from the back of a cabinet and said, “I almost threw that old thing away.” I took the bowl, which was much smaller than I remembered, and turned it over in my hands.   It was misshapen, tarnished, and dented.  It was perfect.

Obviously, she didn’t know there was magic in that old bowl. 

For it didn’t just hold popcorn. It held much more than that.  It held memories of a time when my days consisted of climbing a large cherry tree in our front yard and eating so many cherries that my stomach ached.  Of escaping the neighbor’s dog after shimmying over the fence to get a stray ball.  Or, of laying on the lawn tying clover chains together for hours upon end.

As I held the dented bowl with its lackluster finish, another memory flooded back.  This one of me sitting with my father on our tired brown couch watching a football game in black and white, the silver popcorn bowl between us.  Everything seemed so simple then.

With the stresses of today and the unknowns of tomorrow, it’s sometimes easier to reflect on the “good old days” rather than to think about what lies ahead of us.  Our minds are naturally drawn to the familiar versus the unfamiliar.  We would rather remember the good feelings of the past than face a future that may seem bleak in the light of social unrest, pandemics, and politicians who behave badly, to say the least.

However, I am reminded of an old Billy Joel song that goes: “the good ole days weren’t always good and tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems”.

So, while it’s true that it’s easy to remember the “good old days” as if everything was good, it is more likely that our memories are glorified.  We have cast them in a light that skews them as more favorable than they might have been.  And, there’s certainly nothing wrong with that.  However, we are also guilty of casting the future in an opposite light.  We make it bleaker than it really is, especially when we compare it against our glorified past.

Obviously, we have important issues in our society that need to be addressed and I’m not suggesting we stick our heads in the sand.  I am suggesting, however, that things aren’t all good or all bad.  And, that black and white thinking can cloud our ability to view things objectively.

My dad was a pretty easy-going guy.  He was kind and patient. He used to say, “Nothing is ever as bad as it seems.” He believed that you could weather most storms if you could keep a level head and a positive mental attitude.  Looking back, I am thankful for his practical wisdom. It helps me to keep things in perspective and know that brighter days are always ahead.

I was out for a walk near our high school one afternoon when I noticed that the band had assembled for practice.  As I stopped to listen, they began to play “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.  If you’re not familiar with the song, it is played at the end of the movie when Charlie and Willy blast through the factory roof and fly away.  It just so happens that this is my all-time favorite piece of music and that afternoon the high school rendition was nothing short of spectacular.  I stood there mesmerized as they played the song over and over again. 

I am not sure why I am attracted to this particular piece of music, but I believe it has something to do with the way it makes me feel. 

Inspired.  Hopeful.  Peaceful.   

I believe that we spend all our lives in pursuit of a feeling.  Many times, however, it strikes one as a desire for things.  We want a new job that we think will make us happier.  We want to lose weight so that we will feel better about ourselves.  We want a new car that will make us feel important.

I have realized that the only reason we ever want anything in life is because of the way we think it will make us feel.  What I have found, however, is that we cannot satisfy our need for a feeling by achieving a goal or purchasing a thing.

Let’s take weight loss, for example.   We say to ourselves; I will love myself and be happy with myself after I lose weight.  The catch is, if you really want to lose weight, you absolutely must love and feel better about yourself first.   How many times have we lost weight only to gain it back a short time later?  Until we satisfy the need behind the desire (the need to feel loved, appreciated, worthy, etc.) we will be caught in an endless loop.

So, how do we remedy this?  I believe that it starts with loving ourselves, with making a conscious and unconditional decision to feel better about ourselves regardless of our circumstances.  To love ourselves exactly the way we are right this very moment.    

It starts by telling ourselves that we are valuable and that we are enough.  It starts with forgiving ourselves for our mistakes.  Basically, it starts with treating ourselves like we are our own best friend.

Learning to love ourselves takes time and commitment.  If we can see our endeavors through, however, everything in our lives will begin to improve.  We begin to notice our self-esteem is lifted, our health and well-being are enhanced and even our relationships become more meaningful.  Loving and connecting with ourselves is the first step in satisfying the feelings that we all desire.

I spent a fair amount of time at my grandparents’ large, sprawling farm as a kid.  I loved to wander through the surrounding fields.  I would gather armfuls of beautiful, oversized white lacelike flowers aptly named Queen Anne’s Lace. 

I remember my grandmother once telling me that the flowers that I adored so much were merely weeds and that there was really nothing special about them.  Still, I admired those intricate, delicate flowers with their soft silent beauty.  Sometimes I would stand and just watch them sway and dance to the music of a summer breeze.

I have a vivid memory of the day my grandmother shared that information with me.  She didn’t mean any harm in her statement, but it swayed me.  I began to doubt my own judgment because there was a stark contrast between what I believed and what I was told.  And, from that day forward, in my mind, my beloved Queen Anne’s Lace became a weed.  Not the stunning work of nature that had held my attention the day before.     

Sometimes I think we are very similar to those flowers.  We are born spectacular works of art.  Beautiful, unique, swaying and dancing to our own music.  Then, somewhere along the way, we lose touch with ourselves.  We begin to think that we are not good enough.  Not smart enough.  Not pretty enough.  Simply, not enough.  We begin to doubt ourselves and lose sight of our talents and beauty.  We begin to believe that there is really nothing that special about us.

The difference between us and the flowers is that they don’t know they have been labeled as “less than”.  They remain dazzling.  Defiantly they turn their faces toward the sun and shine their beauty for all to enjoy.  Their value has not diminished.  They are still wondrous works of art.

It is time for us to remember that we too are magnificent and that we were created with a purpose.  It is time for us to turn our faces toward the sun and shine brightly for all to see.   To throw off the worn-out labels we have placed upon ourselves and realize how valuable we are.  To live our lives to our fullest potential and truly know that we are more than enough.