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.

In recent months, I’ve committed myself to cutting back on my coffee intake — with a limit of one cup of regular brew per day. In the past, I would make a pot of coffee in the morning and sip on it throughout the day. One cup at the break of dawn, one around mid-morning, and then a pick-me-up between 3 and 4 p.m.

Now that I’m enjoying only one mug of joe every 24 hours, I’ve noticed that I relish it like never before. I sit down, hold the cup snugly in my hands, breathe in its sweet aroma, and take my first sip. There’s no rushing around the house with a quick swig here and there. For me, that cup of coffee in the morning is to be savored … because it’s the only one I’ll get.

This morning, as I was tenderly cradling the mug in my hands, it occurred to me that all things seem to taste, look, and feel better when they’re in limited supply. 

The recession has forced many of us to cut back on our consumption of items we previously may have taken for granted, whether it be dinners out at a restaurant, new clothing purchases, or home renovations. But I think that there’s a case to be made that the special-occasion dinner out tastes a lot better when it happens once a season instead of once a week. 

In the end, we may discover that doing with less leaves us with a greater sense of appreciation for the luxuries we do have — when we have them.

I celebrated a birthday last week, and I’m sorry to say that I didn’t approach it with the best attitude. If the 35th anniversary of my birth had been a doorway, then I probably would have sidestepped through it, all the while looking longingly over my shoulder at the wonderful world I was leaving behind on the other side. 

But I came to my senses just in time — thanks to a few encounters in the days leading up to the big celebration. I learned that each birthday is like a park bench along the path of life, providing a nice quiet space to sit, gaze out upon our past, present, and imagined future, and soak in the beauty of those people and places that give meaning to our lives.

A friend of mine turned 96 years old just two days before my own birthday. Although I didn’t actually see Gracie on her big day, I have a feeling that she probably wore her favorite matching red beret and scarf. Gracie doesn’t sidestep through birthdays. She may do her fair share of reminiscing, but I don’t think that she ever wishes to be in any place or time other than where she is. Instead of trepidation, she approached her 96th birthday with a sense of gratitude and lightheartedness. 

The day before I blew out the candles, I conducted a life-story interview of a 75-year-old woman with four grown children and a number of grandchildren. When I asked her to recall the best day of her life so far, she took me back less than five years. She had led a rich, joy-filled life, but her best years are right now.

The morning of my birthday rolled around, and I was talking with my mother-in-law about a recent dinner party that she and my father-in-law had attended with some of their closest friends. Apparently, the dinner conversation digressed to roaring laughter about the number gravity was doing on their faces and bodies. They joked that within a few years, they’d have to rely on voice recognition to identify each other due to their drooping eyelids. But they all agreed that it was a really good thing that they were all going through the sometimes cruel process of aging — together.

That same night, I celebrated my birthday at an elegant restaurant in upstate New York with my husband of 11 years, my best friend of 15 years, and her husband, who feels more like a brother-in-law than anything else.

When we threw all caution to the wind and ordered two bottles of wine, I suddenly realized that we were not only celebrating my life — we were toasting our separate, yet shared journeys.  How could we possibly mourn the times left behind when we were traveling with such great company? 

My mom called as we were just finishing dinner. She greeted me with, “Parent Patrol. It’s 10 p.m. Do you know where your children are?” I did. Mine were safe at home in their warm beds, while my mom’s oldest daughter was sitting in a candlelit restaurant feeling the warmth of friendship and love embracing her. 

As my cell phone snapped closed, I was filled with a deep sense of gratitude for the people in my life. My friends. My family. And those who may just be passing through but leave golden nuggets of wisdom in their trail.

May we all learn to be a little less cynical when it comes to our birthdays — and a lot more joyful. There is much to celebrate.

“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.

“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.

My mom and I decided that it might be nice to make some candies and cookies around the holidays to deliver to some of Gracie’s neighbors. From what I can tell, many of the residents in her apartment building are shut-ins (or close to it) and spend their days quite alone.

We asked Gracie to come up with a list of five or six people who would enjoy a surprise visit. She never does anything halfway. The list that she put together included not only names but a description of each person — any disabilities, approximate age, and interests.

When we arrived at Gracie’s apartment on delivery day, she was festively dressed in a red beret, holiday sweater, and silver silk pants. In typical Gracie fashion, she turned this simple outing into an occasion.

With Gracie’s detailed guide in hand, we followed this sprightly little lady as she walked with a sense of confidence and determination through the halls of her building, cane in hand. She would arrive at someone’s door, knock her distinct rat-a-tat-tat, and they would always answer.

I got the feeling that she must make social calls fairly often. No one seemed surprised to see her standing on their doorstep.

It was a lovely way to spend a couple of hours the week before Christmas. I think that Gracie’s neighbors really appreciated our visit.

But here’s the thing that stuck with me ….. While we (like so many others who suddenly appear on the threshold of strangers’ doors around Christmas) will likely disappear from their lives until next December, Gracie will be sticking around.

The sense of social responsibility that she feels is not contained to one particular season. On a daily basis, it propels her out of the comfort of her cozy apartment and into the lives of strangers — turning them into her friends.

That day and for days after, I kept thinking about how much she gives of herself to others.

She doesn’t need to extend her social circle. She has so many friends and family members to fill her days. But she is constantly reaching out to embrace those around her (even if she has to hunt them down). Gracie makes an effort to know each person who crosses her path in an intimate, meaningful way — a basic human need that we so often neglect in our busy, fast-paced lives.

I think that being “open” just comes naturally to her. But I also think that it’s something we all can and should work towards – one day and one person at a time.

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.

I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future.

The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.

I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.”

- Ebenezer Scrooge

– Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, 1843

If there’s anyone I know personally who honors Christmas all through the year, it’s Gracie. She radiates a sense of peace, joy, and hope that so many of us reserve for special occasions. It’s as if she lives her life in a constant state of celebration. Gracie doesn’t need Christmas to remind her to keep first things first, that’s for sure.

I’ve been decorating my house for weeks and stocking up on all of my family’s favorite Christmas goodies. Although it’s a lot of work, my goal is to create a little haven where my loved ones can feel the warmth of the Christmas spirit. 

If there’s ever a time of year when we spend time in one another’s homes, it’s during the holidays. Those age-old yuletide visions of sitting around the fire, sipping egg nog, and singing carols don’t take place in a restaurant. Christmas celebrates “home” in its most idealistic state.

Unfortunately, though, the rest of the year often finds us too busy and preoccupied to keep up the charade. We close up shop. 

Gracie’s door, on the other hand, is open year-round – and the table is never without its tea set.

But perhaps it’s the openness of her heart that gives her face that holiday radiance long after the garland and glass ornaments have been stored away. 

Around Christmas, I try to let myself become more emotionally vulnerable – preparing for the wonder and awe of the birth of Jesus and the arrival of a jolly old man in a red suit. If there’s ever a time to believe in magic, it’s at Christmastime.

A week or so after the holidays pass, I find myself far adrift from that sweet, loving space that cradled me in the thick of the Christmas season. My heart begins to harden a bit, and I often lose sight of the lessons that Christmas brings – giving of ourselves (our time, talents, and treasures) to others and believing in a Love that surpasses human understanding. 

Gracie’s spirit never hardens. Her eyes never lose that Christmas sparkle. She truly keeps Christmas in her heart all through the year – by believing in what cannot be seen or explained, by reaching out to others every day, and by choosing to focus on what is good and hopeful.

“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.

“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.

“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?”