For the past few weeks, I’ve been trying something new – turning off my mind and tuning in to the present. Regularly. And this simple practice has truly changed my life.

I stumbled upon Eckhart Tolle’s book, The Power of Now, completely by accident. A friend had recommended another one of his books, A New Earth. But when the library didn’t have it on the shelf, I grabbed The Power of Now on a whim. Later, I did pick up the other book, and I’m not sure which one I enjoyed more. They both did more for my life in a couple of short weeks than any single book I’ve ever read.

Before I had children, I probably spent most of my time “in my head.” I just didn’t realize it. I mean, it didn’t affect my life all that much. When you’re alone in your car or at your desk or on a run, the voice in your head is kind of nice company. Quite frankly, I think that I spent a lot of time talking to myself. And it wasn’t really an issue.

But once I added two small children to my days and nights, that voice in my head became problematic. Most new moms experience increased worry and anxiety. Well, those emotions become an unhealthy habit if you’re constantly yelling, “FIRE!!!” and running for the exit door — which doesn’t exist, so you just continue running around in circles in your mind with the panic button still  on.

I was feeding myself all kinds of horror stories all day long … what might harm my child, or me, or their father, what I needed to do next, what I hadn’t done yet, etc. It wasn’t all negative thinking. But Echkart Tolle’s book just made me realize how much time I was spending THINKING instead of BEING.

And what he said, which had never actually occurred to me before, is that I have control over these thoughts! I can make that internal voice stop by focusing for a few moments on my breath and my surroundings. And then, voila! I’m present in the moment.

What’s really great is that I don’t have to DO anything different, like meditate for 20 minutes every day or do yoga. I’m sure those things would help, but it’s as simple as recognizing “the voice” for what it is — the imagination on overdrive — and just turning it off.

It’s amazing how much peace I’ve found in my life now that I’m not always interrupting myself with unnecessary thinking.

Most moms I know struggle with guilt. When we’re working, we feel guilty that we’re not playing with our kids. When we’re playing with our kids, we feel guilty that we’re not working.

Those of us who are arts-and-crafty blame ourselves for not spending more time hiking and biking with our children, while we outdoorsy-types feel guilty that we don’t expose our wee-ones to more arts-and-crafts projects.

It’s a lose-lose situation – and really kind of funny, if you think about it. What’s interesting is that “guilt” seems to be epidemic with our generation of mothers. But like so many aspects of 21st-century parenting, I don’t think that our foremothers could relate.

I’ve spent a lot of time with women whose days of child-rearing ended before the second World War began … and they just didn’t experience “guilt” as young mothers. Why is that? 

First of all, I think they were just too busy. Yes, we’re busy. But we’re busy in a totally different way.

While mommies of today run companies, drive carpools, and  dash around town picking up and dropping off this and that, the mothers of yesterday were starching and ironing sheets, canning vegetables, baking pies from scratch, sewing dresses, and folding diapers.

They were physically occupied every minute of every day. They didn’t have the luxury of time or the burden of modern psychology to fuel the fire of self-doubt and second-guessing.

I think that the expectations of parenting were different then, too. Children were not the center of the household. Their opinions, wants, and (sometimes) needs came second to those of the adults in the home. For better or for worse. 

A mother’s life was not about pacifying her children. It was about keeping them clothed, fed, and bathed.

Nowadays, we crave a relationship with our kids that is much more complicated. We talk a lot about quality time and connectedness. My grandmother looked at me cross-eyed when I once asked her if she ever played games with her five daughters.

I’m not sure how to keep us all free and clear of the mommy guilt-trap, but I do know that it’s all relative. At the end of the day, if we plan well and allocate our time wisely, we are gifted with more time with our kids than possibly any generation of mothers that has preceded us.

Instead of over-thinking it, we should embrace these precious moments for what they are, feel grateful that we aren’t darning socks, and then guiltlessly move on.

Lately, I’ve been feeling betwixt and between when it comes to my choices around work and family. Welcome to the party, right?

I think that most moms with school-age children struggle with the many hats they wear. Not just “doing” it all – but “being” it all.

There’s a part of me that is admittedly old-fashioned when it comes to my deep-rooted beliefs about marriage and motherhood.

I want to be home with my children baking apple pies and tending the backyard vegetable garden. 

But I also grew up watching T.V. shows like, Laverne & Shirley and Cagney & Lacey. All I need is a CB radio and a red sports car, and I’ll set the world on fire.

I can’t be the only one who carries around idealistic snapshots of myself – mental photos that don’t always jive with one another. 

I have a favorite one of me in the garden. My hair is pulled back in a twist, and I’m filling a bowl with snap-peas, while my children run circles around me in the yard.

Another image captures me busily typing away at my computer with a hot mug of coffee on my desk, while the phone rings steadily in the background – a long list of agents vying for my business.

The homemaker. The world-famous writer and business woman.

Ahhh .. to be both – and to be neither – at the same time. One day, perhaps it will all gel together.

But for now, I mix a little bit of “mommy” with a little bit of “professional” and call it a day.

“Wealth, notoriety, place, and power are no measure of success whatsoever. The only true measure of success is the ratio between what we might have done and what we might have been on the one hand, and the thing we have made and the thing we have made of ourselves on the other.”

H.G. Wells (1866 – 1946)

This fall, I began the process of growing and expanding Fourfold Press – my writing and editorial services business.

In the beginning, I approached this new challenge with a tremendous amount of energy. I remember working on the final touches of my website until the wee hours of the morning.

But it didn’t take long before I began to experience brief bouts of doubt. I would find myself thinking about all of the possible roadblocks to my success instead of scheming ways around them.

It suddenly hit me one day that there always will be a limitless supply of commentary (whether it comes from our own minds or the mouths of others) as to why something might fail.

But who wants to hang around with Fear and Uncertainty all of the time? Those guys are great companions if you want to stay frozen in place for the rest of your days.

I decided that, for me, the greatest travesty would be to hole up in my comfort zone and never demand anything greater of myself.

We may not get it right the first time, but so what? At least we’re making headway. The business plan that I wrote in the fall, for example, is not the same business plan that I’m following today. It changed because I realized that I had chosen the wrong path (or just not the best one) to get to my destination.

We adapt. We choose a new direction. But we keep moving forward.

The most devastating loss would be to realize at the end of the day that we had talents and passions that we never tapped. For me, this thought is one of my greatest motivators.

When I think back to life before becoming a parent, I have faint memories of sitting on the couch sipping a glass of wine with my husband on a Friday night and feeling truly relaxed and mentally “empty.”

I’ve had many, many wonderful evenings since my son was born over five years ago, but it’s so much harder to unwind these days. In fact, I sometimes wonder whether I will ever be able to regain that pre-parenthood ability to just shut-down at the end of a day.

Maybe that’s because the day never really ends. It just progresses into a night-shift that then morphs into another day eight hours later.

But as parents, we need to learn how to relax again. And not just on summer vacation at the beach. We have to find a way to push mental pause — regularly.

This is a personal struggle for me. My mental tape-recorder seems to be stuck on play.

But I’ve decided to cut myself some slack. I’m not going to become “Miss Relaxed” overnight. Baby steps are better than no steps at all, I figure.

For now, I’m just trying to carve out the last 15 or 20 minutes of the day for mental relaxation. If I’m lucky, I might even get an hour in the bath. But 15 minutes will do.

Every night before turning off the light – no matter how late it might be – I’ve been making a point of reading something humorous or inspirational.

I keep a couple of uplifting books on my night stand (Erma Bombeck is great … or even a Deepak Chopra-type read), and I open one up to a random page and soak in a paragraph or two. If something makes me laugh or smile, then jackpot! I’ve hit gold.

Then I can close the book and enjoy the sweet sensation of a “lightened” head hitting the pillow.

It’s a start.

“Strive to crowd out of your life unworthy thoughts, unworthy acts, unworthy contacts. Just see what happens if, for a solid week, you fill your life only with the best! — the very best in literature, the very best in art, the very best in nature.”

William H. Danforth, 1931

I have a close friend, Melissa, who is a master of bringing beauty into her life. She turns everyday activities into ceremonious occasions.

I’ve learned a lot from her about filling my life with quality moments and experiences. So I thought I’d pass along a few of her tricks:

Light a Candle

Melissa is a little obsessive about candles. We used to share an apartment years ago, and I remember always feeling nervous that she was going to eventually burn down the place.

These mini-torches hung from the walls, were perched precariously on windowsills, and adorned every flat space (coffee tables, end-tables, vanities) in our little abode. Candles were lit for dinner, for after-dinner tea, for quiet nighttime conversation ….

As much as I might have fretted about their safety, they truly turned an ordinary moment into something quite extraordinary.

One night, we watched together as a neighboring apartment building burned to the ground as a result of a forgotten candle. I thought that this experience might have toned down her own candle-burning habit.

But even today, when I visit her and her growing little family, our moments together are bathed in candlelight. Her three young children have probably never eaten a meal under artificial light.

Put on a Pot of Tea

Being from the south, I grew up with a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge. But I had never experienced a cup of hot tea until I met Melissa. Since then, I’ve found that most New Englanders drink their fair share of tea, but Melissa’s family drinks more than most.

They put a pot of water on to boil the moment a guest enters the house. In fact, you would never seriously try to have a conversation in their house without a nice cup of hot tea to cradle in your hands.

Plan Your Meals

I’ve spent a lot of time with Melissa and her family over the years, and I can’t remember a time when she has ever said, “Let’s just throw in a frozen pizza.”

She’s an artist. And maybe that explains why she always takes the time to visualize the way a meal will unfold before it happens. It very well may be simple — fresh bread, cheese, dilly beans, and a salad — but it’s never an afterthought.

She says, “What shall we have for dinner?” with a spark in her eye — and you know that no matter what might follow, it’s going to be some kind of culinary occasion.

Slow Down, and Be in the Moment

Although I come from a family where “rushing to the next thing” is part of our genetic code, I have never felt the need to hurry when I’m with Melissa.

She just doesn’t rush. Moments linger. Pots of coffee continue to refill themselves. We may stay in our pajamas until mid-morning. And it just doesn’t matter.

She is a master of being in the present – completely devoted to what we’re experiencing right now … A cup of hot coffee and a meaningful conversation. Why would we need to exchange this moment for a different one?

Choose Your Day

I love spending a full day with Melissa because they are always so well balanced and full. Over breakfast, she’ll say, “So what should we do today?”

And even if there are things that just have to be done — like work, errands, or house chores — she somehow finds time to weave something really great into the day. Maybe we’ll walk into town for breakfast, or we might make a picnic dinner to enjoy by the water. Or sometimes, the entire day will become a series of fun, meaningful experiences.

And it’s all because she loves embracing the possibilities that each day offers — as it begins.

The weather update on the morning news today read “East Coast Misery.” Wow. I guess I didn’t realize just how distressed I should be on this glistening December morning just two weeks away from Christmas. 

It’s true that we’re enduring a sleet/rain/snow storm that has left many of us without power and negotiating treacherous roads on our commutes to work. I’m sure that the weather has caused more than a few complications in New England lives this morning. But misery?

The headline made me think how easy it is to let one negative thought, worry, or aggravation become the focal point of an otherwise nice day. It’s an act of self-sabotage, really. Everything is going smoothly until that critical moment when we realize that there is or MAY BE a glitch – whether it’s a traffic jam, a runny nose, or a child with a runny nose. We often ruin our own day by focusing on the one thing that’s not going quite right instead of celebrating the hundreds of little details that are humming along just perfectly.

Since becoming a parent, I find that my biggest source of personal “misery” comes from an exceptional facility that I have for “awful-izing” (a term coined by psychologist, Joan Borysenko). I let one negative thought or fear take over my mind and body so completely that I can barely function. 

The other night, for example, I was suddenly filled with deep pangs of garbage-can remorse. As I was lying in bed, I realized that I really should have been keeping the ABC practice sheets that my son has been bringing home all year from kindergarten, instead of dumping them discreetly in the trash. What kind of mother am I? What will I say one-day when he asks me, “Mom, where are all of my ABC practice sheets?” After all, he only learns how to write his letters once. How could I have had such little foresight?

The thoughts mounted, and my heart raced. At midnight, I jumped out of bed and went scurrying about the house trying to find any scrap of paper my son may have scribbled on to place in my new official “saving everything” folder. 

I was starring in my own episode of “Midnight Misery.” I would have been better off just going to sleep. The folder could have been initiated the following morning without me wasting two hours beating myself up over a few silly mistakes. And in hindsight, I’m a pretty good mom. I kept every single “I love you” card he ever made.

So today, as I look out my window at the tree branches encapsulated in a layer of shimmery ice, I choose to see beauty instead of a nuisance. After all, my house is warm and dry, my husband arrived safely at work, and my two children are healthy and happy downstairs eating piping hot pancakes. Misery on the east coast? None here, I’m happy to report.

“You have dreams. They will come true – I ask you when?”

William H. Danforth, 1931

When I was a little girl, I remember my grandfather telling me about my mental alarm clock. He said that all I had to do before I went to bed was decide what time I wanted to wake up, then presto! I would wake at that exact time. 

Today, there are tons of books out there advocating the mind over matter approach … Envision yourself having already achieved what you want to achieve, and it will be yours.

The very idea makes me realize how pessimistically I think about most things in my life. It’s easier to envision something not going our way than to risk the disappointment of counting on something that doesn’t materialize. But dreams, I think, are as much a mental exercise as they are an emotional whimsy.

Any of the great thinkers will tell you … you have to keep your eye on the ball. Your mental energy needs to stay directed on the outcome that you want to achieve, in order to bring it about. But you also have to invest some time and energy into pursuing that dream.

Once we become a parent, it seems that our personal journey gets derailed for a few years, at least, in favor of the family journey. And I think that’s a good thing. There are deep rewards that come from letting go of our own agenda in order to create this new little community in our life.

But at some point, we need to reconnect with the dreams that exist for us outside of our home and family.  I have been contemplating this in my own life, and I know that other women with school-age children are doing the same.

A number of years ago, I befriended a winemaker in southwestern France. I lived with his family while doing an internship on wine, and he not only became my mentor in the wine-making process but also in life. I will never forget one evening when he said to me, as we were discussing my goals after school, “If you can dream it, you can do it!”

If both my grandfather and this inspiring winemaker are correct, then thoughts can become reality. I think that we should all challenge ourselves not only to work towards rediscovering the dreams that we may have temporarily locked away, but to begin taking active steps – even if they are small at first – towards achieving them.

by Satirat

Today I received a newsletter from the organization that served as the catalyst for this blog (see History) and so many other good things in my life — the American Youth Foundation (AYF).

The president, Anna-Kay Vorsteg, always includes an insightful letter that discusses the relevance of the ongoing efforts of the nonprofit organization in light of current affairs. 

The title of her letter in this issue gave me pause. It read,  “Diminishing Resources?” The question mark is so telling. In the letter, she discusses a problem-solving activity called Diminishing Resources that the AYF often uses in its leadership-development programs.

The goal of the activity is to challenge a group to adapt as their resources appear to diminish from plentiful to scarce.  Anna-Kay writes in her letter, “I have facilitated this activity many times and, in doing so, have observed that generally youth discover the solution more quickly than adults.”  

We grown-ups are so set in our ways of thinking. It’s hard for us to shake our preconceptions about things — but also our pessimism. Children are, by nature, the eternal optimists.  As parents, we are so busy leading these little people around. It would do us good, from time to time, to take their hands and let them introduce us to the bountiful world of possibility that they seem to know so well. 

But the good news is that, with enough determination, groups of all ages eventually solve the diminishing-resources problem. “In this game, as resources diminish, creative solutions are grown, dependency on others is increased, ideas and items are shared, and eventually spirits soar,” Anna-Kay says. 

Now this is where she makes the great leap between a small-group learning experience and the greater situation we find ourselves in as citizens of the world:

“As the value of the dollar drops and expenses rise, we all hear a cry to change behaviors and conserve resources. We all worry and wonder if we will have enough …. The task before us as a people, a nation, an organization are not insurmountable if we can surface and act upon new ideas. What are we not yet seeing? What could we change? How can we better work together and share resources? Which resources are untapped?”

I think that both as individuals and as a greater global community, we are still struggling to make that difficult transition between clinging to well-worn perceptions … and breaking out into a new way of seeing the world and our role in it. It is a difficult place to be in. The more that we insist that the old way is the only way — the more painful and prolonged the journey to a hopeful tomorrow will be. 

But as the case study at Merrowvista suggests, we are absolutely capable of thinking outside-of-the-box, if we just think long enough and hard enough –  and if we think together.

I was talking with a friend during after-school hours at the playground today. She mentioned that she has been struggling with this in-between time of year — with winter not fully arrived and autumn’s warmer and more colorful days long past.

Lately, I’ve been finding myself in a lot of conversations like this. But as we talked this afternoon, I began to think that there may be more to this “betwixt and between” feeling, that so many moms I know are experiencing, than simply the change of seasons.

Regardless of our individual life stories, a thin veil of anxiety and worry appears to be hanging over most of us. And it’s really no wonder. The economy comes up in almost every hockey-rink-sideline chat I’m involved in. Either a friend’s husband just got laid off, or a couple someone knows is in deep water with a home they can’t sell in a town where they can’t find work. Of course we’re on edge!

If the bottom hasn’t already dropped out from under us, we’re afraid it might happen at any time. That feeling of security – and perhaps naivety – that we enjoyed only a few months ago is now a happy memory. We’re worried about our jobs, our savings, our homes, and our futures. 

So if it’s not just a Vitamin-D deficit, and the uncertainty of the economic climate is really what’s bugging us, then how do we get out of our funk in time to enjoy the holidays?

I think that the answer lies in two life skills that I’ve personally been working on for years: letting go of fear and learning to adapt readily to change.

If we can accept that we don’t have control over most things in our lives — even though we like to think that we do — then we will be less attached to each situation’s outcome. And if we’re less attached to the outcome, then maybe we’ll be better equipped to ride whatever tide comes our way.

As for the holidays …. maybe we can start trying to see uncertainty as one of this season’s mysterious gifts. 

Christmas is really all about love (in the active tense). And we love most effectively in the here and now. Perhaps that uneasiness we feel about not-knowing-what’s-coming-next should be a cue to us to embrace the moment that we’re in – and to celebrate, more earnestly than ever, the love that we share with our families, our friends, and our neighbors.