“You can be bigger socially than you have ever been in your life. That’s sure. (But) you can’t grow socially unless you help others grow also.”

Wiliam H. Danforth, 1931

During those first few years of motherhood, my social circle grew immensely. I suddenly found myself reaching out and connecting with women like never before.

My formerly introverted self was now carrying around a pen and paper for chance phone number exchanges and then actually calling to set up “play dates” (for our then 3-month-olds.)

Those friendships that developed during the early days of motherhood are still incredibly precious and sustaining to me. But I recently realized – as my energies began zeroing in on my own rekindled career objectives – that my “rolodex,” so to speak, was comprised completely of women between the ages of 32 and 42 with two to three kids each and a husband.

It had never occurred to me that this was a problem. In fact, I would have gone merrily along my way had I not been forced by my business objectives to break out of my mold and meet new people. And wow! — I was shocked at how great it felt!

As I move throughout my days now, getting together with people from so many different walks of life, ages, and backgrounds … I feel a tremendous energy that I haven’t felt in years. It’s a kind of social energy, I guess. And I had no idea that it was missing in my life – until now.

I’ve joined a local networking group, as well as another association related to my line of work, and I’m getting ready to add one more women-in-business organization to my list.

Someone made a comment at one of these meetings recently that none of us would be there (at the meeting) unless we were solely motivated by the need or desire to grow our business. Well, I have news for that person.

I may be out to lunch on this one, but I like to think that we’re also there to help each other grow. I know that I am.

Nothing feels better than to help someone else achieve their goals, whether they’re professional or personal pursuits. It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’s really all personal, anyway. We’re all people – with hopes and passions and dreams.

What a great moment it is when we break out of our narrow mindset long enough to fully appreciate those heartfelt aspirations in another person. To me, that is the “social energy” that makes all things in life and business possible.

And when that can happen, the experience of being part of a business group or a social network or whatever you want to call it is so much more fulfilling than being holed up in your office or kitchen, for that matter, alone with your thoughts and ideas.

“Remember, courage is not the absence of fear, it is the conquest of it. Not until you dare to attack will you master your fears.”

William H. Danforth, 1931

It’s never easy to make a change. Status quo is like a big, fat easy-chair next to a roaring fire. It’s what we know. It’s comfortable.

But after awhile, even the cushiest chair leaves us stiff and achy. Our limbs beg to be stretched. And we yearn to see and experience more.

It’s time to get up and move on to the next thing.

I’ve spoken with a number of friends lately who are at a crossroads between the way life has been since they had their first child half a decade ago and this new stage of motherhood that involves parent-teacher conferences, drop-off birthday parties, and ballet recitals.

In many ways, our children need us more than ever. But it’s a different kind of need than that of a newborn or toddler. I guess we’re all just becoming a little bit more independent — kids and parents, alike.

In my circle of “post-toddlerhood” mothers, most of us seem to be feeling the need to redefine ourselves and branch out into new roles and responsibilities extending beyond the sweet little family that we continue to love and nurture.

We may not always know what the next road will look like, and we may even question whether or not we’re up to the task. But we’re feeling something stir within.

The funny thing is – it doesn’t seem to matter whether we took time off to stay home or continued in our jobs after starting a family. We’ve got the itch to DO something – different.

It may take months or even years to figure out what that something is. But I think that as long as we’re listening intently to that inner voice — it will come.

And then, the next step involves that thing called, “courage.”

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.

“A thrilling spiritual adventure awaits you but it will take courage. The men who dared were the first pioneers to cross the wilderness. They were the front line men in the great war. Courage challenged their inner resources. You cannot climb your spiritual heights without that same courage to loosen the powers that are within you.”

William H. Danforth, 1931

Every day, we are faced with the opportunity to show inner courage or to succumb to fear and anger. How do we tap into that inner spring of mental and emotional strength?

There are times in all of our lives when things just don’t turn out the way we would like. I have experienced these personal tragedies and have stood on the sidelines while my friends have worked through their own. 

We often have a vision of how our life should unfold. But what happens when the road takes a very sharp detour? All that we want to do is resist what’s happening and somehow use our own personal will to set things right.

But life just doesn’t work that way. Sometimes we just have to hang on tight as we bump along the track at breathtaking speed. 

Intellectually, we know that we have to let go of our need to control what is happening. We have to let go of what we consider to be the ideal situation. We have to trust that God has a plan and that we will one-day understand why events unfolded in our life as they did.

But what is easy to grasp mentally can be a bear to manage emotionally. In the face of disappointment and an uncertain future, I think that we can only turn to gratitude and giving. For me, anyway, my heart heals in a place where I am feeling thankful for what IS in my life and directing my energies towards others. 

With Christmas just days away, it is my hope that a little holiday introspection will enable each of us to find and nourish that inner spring of courage and strength to face whatever challenges the coming year may bring.

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.

“If you want to be happy, be.”

Leo Tolstoy

The greatest lesson that I hope to learn from my time with Gracie is not how to live into my mid-90s and beyond, but rather, how to live from this point forward (however long that might be) with the joy and sense of purpose with which Gracie approaches every day of her life.

Each afternoon we share together, Gracie must say, “Aren’t we lucky?” dozens of times. When we sit down to a plate of cookies, when the teaspoon happens to be left on the table from the previous tea-party, when the sunlight falls “just so” across the table …. She lives in a constant state of appreciation. 

Gracie epitomizes the saying, “If you want to be happy, be.” The circumstances in her life have little affect on her overall happiness. She has arranged her mind in such a way that there is cause for hope and celebration in any situation. And in almost 96 years, she must have encountered her fair share of life’s trials and tribulations (although I can only surmise – as she doesn’t talk about them).

I do know that a number of years ago, Gracie lost a young person in her life who was very dear to her.  As painful as the experience must have been for her and her family, she speaks of this young man with a twinkle in her eye and a joyous smile on her face. She harbors not a doubt in her mind that she will be reunited with him in heaven. Gracie is a woman of powerful faith.

Yet her personal spiritual beliefs do not exclude or judge. They are simply a part of who she is — loving, caring, and trusting.

It seems to me that her unwavering faith in God and her attitude of happiness are so closely intertwined – you could not begin to pull them apart. It is her confidence in God’s path for her life that enables her to surmount the fear that keeps so many of us mentally and emotionally under water. 

Not only does she live without fear, but she quite visibly feels gratitude for every moment given to her here on this earth – without worrying about what might or might not be coming next.  Instead, she opens herself up – without a second thought – to anything God might ask of her. 

I want to be more like Gracie. I want to wake up in the morning, as I know she does, with a smile on my face that surfaces from a contented, yet eager heart. I want to live each moment of every day with the unwavering confidence that everything will be just as it should be … and I can stop resisting and start truly participating in the wonderful world of not knowing and not needing to know. 

I can almost see Gracie looking out her living room window at the heavens as she says her silent prayer each night before bed and each morning as she awakes. She is joyful, thankful, hopeful, and above all – faithful. And she never stops asking, “Lord, what can I do?”

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 called Gracie around noon on Wednesday to tell her that I would be bringing a picnic lunch for my kids. We needed to get on the road to my parents-in-laws’ by late afternoon, and I was trying to fit in a number of activities in a short amount of time. Multi-tasking as usual, I thought that we could combine lunch with our weekly visit.

When we arrived at Gracie’s half an hour later, her small kitchenette-table was set as if we were sitting down to a formal Thanksgiving dinner.

Small china plates held triangular ham-and-mayonnaise sandwiches. And individually-wrapped servings of Cabot cheese were placed to the upper left of each plate and just above our napkins, which were tucked neatly inside red braided napkin-holders. Set at a perfect angle towards the back of the table, a little china serving dish held several petit fours for our dessert. She had filled ceramic juice glasses with fresh milk for the kids, and the china teapot was steaming with hot water, keeping warm in preparation for the boiling water which would soon be coming off the stove.

I discreetly placed the lunch box filled with my hastily-made pb&js under our coats on a chair by the front door.

After we sat down, Gracie picked up a card that she had pre-deposited next to her place setting. It contained a Thanksgiving wish sent to her by one of her many friends from afar. We always say the blessing at Gracie’s – even if we’re just having tea and cookies. So her friend’s good wishes became our prayer for that day.

Gracie has been trying to teach my children the proper way of asking for and receiving food at the table. Each week, she gently lifts the plate of cookies or brownies from the table, holds it just in front of my daughter, and asks, “Would you care for another cookie?” Then she waits patiently while my rather timid child decides whether she’s brave enough to reach for something.

So on the day before Thanksgiving, we sat and dined like royalty – eating dainty, lovingly-made tea sandwiches and drinking tea from delicate china cups. The table was covered with an elegant, white plastic tablecloth with pink flowers given to her by a 96-year-old neighbor, who is extraordinarily proficient at catalog-shopping via money orders. Everything around us had been placed with intention by a loving hand and a pure heart.

The fact that it was the day before Thanksgiving had little bearing on Gracie’s efforts to create a beautiful, inviting setting for her guests. She does this every week. And I would guess that she has been doing it for friends and family for well over 80 years.

While my life often consists of throwing pb&js together in two-minutes-flat so that we can cram an ice-skating session in before school starts (or any other variation of activities in succession), our time at Gracie’s feels like the calm in the eye of a tropical cyclone. The afternoon is a respite filled with ritual and tradition — the beautifully-dressed table, the pouring of hot tea for one another, and the moment of stillness while we listen to Gracie recite the blessing.

If my kids didn’t start getting antsy, I could sit with Gracie in this soothing, peaceful space for an entire afternoon. But the eye-wall of the storm closes in on me every time. There is dinner to be made, clothes to be washed, kids to be bathed, and work to be done.

Yet there is a lesson to be learned here. If Gracie’s home can provide a comforting haven for the soul, then why can’t my own? Granted, the number-one feature of my house is a couple of kids running laps around the staircase most hours of the day. But I can create rituals and traditions in our household that foster the quiet together-time that we find around Gracie’s table.

It’s just a matter of taking the time to be intentional.

I will begin small – perhaps lighting the candles at dinner, keeping fresh flowers or greenery as a centerpiece, or even sitting down with my children for afternoon tea parties.

Gracie has reminded me that the best way to show our love is through our time and attention … making ordinary together-moments true “occasions”.

After giving birth, I became a group person. The more the merrier. The person who had never organized a social gathering in her life (aside from a birthday party or two) was suddenly coordinating a local play-group. And I always showed up. Early.

I used to think that you either came into the world a “group” person, or you didn’t. You were either the sorority-type, or you weren’t. But then after I had my first child, I realized that my days of preferring to ride solo were over. And I don’t just mean that I now had a kid hitched to my hip 24/7. I mean that the “one-on-one- relationship me” had suddenly walked out the door with my 26-inch waist … never  to return.

I have friends who tell a similar story. They simply didn’t enjoy being around large groups of women – until they had a baby. Judging by the proliferation of play-groups in every neighborhood and town and the gazillion online forums out there … I think that it’s rare to find a woman who has a child and then retreats from other mothers. At least I haven’t met one.

Perhaps what makes motherhood so enriching has almost more to do with how we change in relation to the world than how the world changes in relation to us.

Our environment is different. Absolutely. We now have a baby. BIG change. But up until that baby came into our lives, I think it’s safe to say that most of us (even if we were “group” people) felt that we were somehow charging ahead in our own little personal life-experience. And maybe we were.

The day we became mothers, however, that world opened up. We now took comfort in the feeling that we were definitely not alone in our “life pods.” We were truly part of a greater community of women … some moms, some not yet, some maybe never. That commonality doesn’t seem to matter. It’s more about the shared experience of being a woman — and whatever that brings for each of us.