Moving Pieces

How do you feel when you are starting a new project? You think you have everything in front of you, but often because you are just starting, you are overwhelmed and it feels like it won't work out. You convince yourself to wait. The Moving Pieces are a mystery.

Once we get going, we discover that we don't have the password, or are missing a part (it could even be an ingredient). Sometimes we need a new connecting piece and have to get in the car and head to Staples or Michaels or the hardware store.

The very act of stopping can throw us off-kilter. It's hard to get our momentum back, maybe we'll just do it tomorrow instead, there are more urgent things to get done, maybe we'll just watch one more YouTube to be sure we've got it right. Maybe we'll sit on our sofa and climb under a blanket.

Moving Pieces though belong together. The pieces may lay in our cupboards, our counters our hide-away places. If we're stubborn enough, we can leave them there for years!

But eventually...


We decide to gather all the parts together, we research what needs to be done, we ask our favourite expert (an uncle, google or a book we've hidden away) for help. Rarely does it come together on a first try, and often our efforts need more practise.


These pieces of mine have been floating in my head for a long time. I pretended that the Moving Pieces could lie dormant and maybe I would do different projects entirely. Because this one scared me! (There are so many ways we can fool ourselves.) 

and then I questioned myself.

What a crazy idea.
I'm not creative enough.
I can't do this.
What if..it's a disaster, stupid, ugly.
What if I fail?

But these Moving Pieces intrigued me, they called to me, they wanted to be put together. (Tweet This)

So here they are.

My first attempt at a painting I did some years ago.

and all my Moving Pieces.

Let's see what they can do together!

We all have ideas that we've put aside. Tell me about your experience with Moving Pieces. (Tweet This)

Celebrate Accomplishment - Smell the Flowers

Don't hurry, don't worry. 

You're only here for a short visit. 

So be sure to stop and smell the flowers.

Walter Hagen

Simple, right? NO! 

Everyday someone says that they don't get to the things that they truly want to do. The things that they yearn to do. Most of us have to first meet the demands of our boss, our household, a partner, or our children.

What are you supposed to do? How do you meet the needs of everyone around you and still keep your flame from going out? How do you squeeze yourself in? (Tweet This)

We all have dreams, some we're working on, some are way down the road still simmering in our minds... waiting out time. We deserve each moment as Zen Habits reminds us, even in our hurrying moments, let's not forget to smell the flowers. Let's fit ourselves in too.

Each day we accomplish, we might not notice that we've actually moved ahead because we are too busy getting to our next "thing" whatever it might be. But what about pausing once in a while to jot it down in a notebook, this act in itself will allow us to smell the roses. We did it! Now celebrate.

You might not be one for broadcasting your highlights on social media, you're just not of that ilk. Attention makes some of us squirm. Or you might enjoy it, so go for it I say. Just always remember, that everyone seeing your post has also reached a goal that day. Sometimes just finishing the day is all that someone gets to celebrate. (Tweet This) 

We're all allowed to smell the roses. (Tweet This) 

Give yourself that moment. Then share what you've learned by encouraging others, you might not get as many followers/hits/retweets but you will get the satisfaction. I promise.

Keep looking. When you find it, make it better.  ©

Yesterday

I can't go back to yesterday

because I was a different person then.

from Alice in Wonderland

We all know that we can't reach back. Even if those moments have been captured in a favourite image that hangs on our wall, the attachment we have is based on our emotion of that event. A daughter's dance recital, a son's new job, the feelings that are wrapped around that memory.

Yesterday

We may sigh with the satisfaction of knowing how it felt but the warmth of the sun, the quiet hum of the distant lawnmower, the joy (or fear) on your child's face as they made their way into a new chapter of their lives, well, they're gone. They are quickly replaced by new events, new treasured moments, new books, new movies, a new something else.

Yesterday no matter how much it swelled or broke our heart lies behind us. (Tweet This) It might have built us into something better or left us stranded on an island of isolation. What we do with yesterday is up to us.

It was our teacher and if we were listening it gave us a chance.

to forgive

to reach out

to question

to love

to appreciate
to learn

to throw away anger

to pay attention

to repeat or not to repeat

Because today's yesterday has served its purpose if it was done well. (Tweet This)

Now leave a comment and tell me, which lesson do you wish you'd have learned a long ago yesterday?

Keep looking. When you find it, make it better.  ©

The Stripe of the Lion

It is never too late to reform,

as long as you have the sense to desire it,

and the strength to execute your purpose.

Anne Bronte

Courtesy Pixabay - djsudermann

We have all heard of stories of people who have turned their lives around…but deep down do we adhere to the adage “you can’t change a lion’s stripes”. Yes, I did say lion, and we all know that lion's don't have stripes.

There are millions of books which offer a learning opportunity for anyone on the growth path, or someone wanting to improve their finances, their physique, or eliminate their over-cluttering habit. Do we help another change instead of following their accustomed path?
Or does it scare us for many reasons?

We might read the book, listen to the podcast, repeat the words but do we often put what we've heard into action? We'll get to it ...next. And next rarely happens.

So when we see someone start to change, it's uncomfortable. We know them the way they are.

When we listen to someone suffer from a remark they feel was pointed to them, or whine about the way things are, what do we do? Usually nothing. Because that is who they are. That's the way it's always been.

We count on the lion to stay the same. We don't expect them to have a bolt of understanding and become someone new. It takes time. And patience for both of us.

Little steps, forward steps, backward too. Pacing along the perimeter.

We are learning something new also. About ourselves.

Courtesy Pixabay - LoveallArtsof Pictures

We know that the caged lion can be angry, can retreat with angst, and growl in our face.

For this reason, we usually step back. We may offer the words, the extended hand, which say we understand. But then we withdraw. There are bars in cages for a reason.

We like the animal we know. We are still afraid of lions, whether we see them developing the signs of change or not. We don't want them to get better than us.

We don't want to get bitten or left behind. (Tweet This)

Do we support each other as we change our stripes? (Tweet This)


Keep looking. When you find it, make it better. ©

Love Letter Thrown from a Car Window

(Everywhere: The interaction in the aisle with dog food and bowls. The assertive body language through the rearview mirror. The sullen looks while riding the escalator at the mall.)

Love Letter Thrown from a Car Window

I saw it flutter by.

The paper could have been anything
a bill 
a betrayal
a lottery ticket
a phone number scrawled on a napkin
a tissue wrapped in tears.

So many ways to end a story.

Thrown out a car window on a highway
no evidence
no crime.

too late
it's gone

they are still 
alone
on a road to nowhere
following a line
into the horizon.

Love Letter Thrown from a Car Window. (Tweet This)

Throwing away a promise, a poem. (Tweet This)

Keep looking. When you find it, make it better. ©

No Pain No Gain?

To feel no pain. A litany lived by many. Stay safe, we think.
We might try to hide. But pain rebirths itself in every cell of our bodies from time to time. We have no choice, it decides when to enter our lives.

Portlandia, Portland Oregon

We tend to hear the word pain and feel that it is associated with loss. Rivers of tears, darkened nights, the boundless echoes of thunder. The Unknown, that scary, uncomfortable place. But what of the other kind of pain?

The one that delivers your child, the breaking of your heart with utter joy when you witness the sunshine bouncing off the new hairs after chemo, the expanding of your dinner table as a loved one introduces someone who makes them sing with delight? Pain, yes. Because behind this feeling you know you are given a gift, and that someday it could be taken away. It is the pain of recognition that changes you.

So how do we hold on to the sheer expanse of those special moments?

This “painless woman” might be brave in her surgery but would she also attempt starting a new business or leaving an abusive husband? Physical pain hurts but emotional and mental pain can destroy. Would this person who doesn't fear a fall on slippery streets or tackling a half-marathon also be brave enough to assert herself in the workplace?
Are some of us just wired to feel less pain?
But like most of us, notice as you run through your experiences of pain. Most pain we feel is because we didn't get something we wanted. Often due to love. People are known to betray us in the most hurtful ways. Then there is the pain from an accomplishment. We might sacrifice hard hours of alone time in our side hustle to find that it turns into more. And then it might lead to joy, eventually.

The Doors We Walk Through - Retirement Memories

on my retirement...

Have you ever thought about how many doors you walk through?

Doors that open to your future and doors you slam behind you. Doors that bring great promise and others best left untouched.

Tomorrow, I walk through a new door. A door that allowed me to create a safe haven when life was not going well, a door that gave me the means to build a life that I wanted.

Within those many doors, I met the most dedicated and diligent people. Folks who gave more with their patience and belief that they could inspire. Many held their lives together by threads as they too went through the unimaginable. And yet they continued to show up each day and be the best that they could be. They often offered to others what they themselves did not receive.

So it is with some bittersweet memories that I walk through my door tomorrow, as I hang up a career and hand it off to those who can be responsible to honour the promise we all made at some point to ourselves. Our futures are untold, but we can make a difference. I believe it and I hope that you do too.

Do you know that feeling of forgetting what was distinctly clear a minute ago? A word at the tip of your tongue? Something sort of important you wanted to share with a family member? Then, poof, it vanishes! They say that walking back through a doorway can help you remember.

As I face my doorway tomorrow, I have re-lived the many others I have walked through during my career. I have suddenly recalled long-forgotten incidents and heard the laughter of working late nights and eating pizza at our desks. Of fumbled new protocols and crashing websites that held us hostage for hours. Of small things that seemed so drastic then eventually waned in importance. Silly things, big changes, chilling hours, all marched along, lined up, then disappeared.

I will hold on to the smiles, the sharing, and hope that some of my words created an idea in someone. Believe in a good world but question when you doubt. Stay strong, with practice it gets easier. Work hard for your dream, you are the only one who can do it.

Make each day count.

Walking through a doorway to retirement. (Tweet This)

Each doorway you walk through brings you life. (Tweet This)

Pastel Pause in the Afternoon

Sunshine. Shadows. Heat. Can you Pause?

Afternoon lull. Close your eyes.

How often do you stop? How frequently do you look at the colours, see the lines as the sunshine lands through your windows? Do you feel the warmth as it streams into your space? 

Relax. Hear the distant traffic, the sounds of children laughing, the birds awakened to spring. 

Use this moment. Take it as permission to listen and to see what you would usually not notice. Each day we get to decide what we want our lives to mean. In How to Cultivate Meaning and Well-Being Through Simple, Everyday Actions, you will become aware of the power of our choices. We get to appreciate or deny, to weigh our belief in the good in the world, to banish or to celebrate.

Give yourself this one minute regardless of what you are going through today. Don't rush through it. Savour it. Feel it. Bask in it. This minute is always here for you.

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.  

Viktor E. Frankl

Let the brightness of the yellow make you smile. Let the pink soften you. Allow the shades of orange to lift you to hope. I hope you giggle at the waters filled with so many tiny bubbles or shed the tears you've been holding. 

May your spirit re-awaken. 

May this pastel pause in the afternoon remind you to notice your special moments. (Tweet this)

How will you use your next minute? (Tweet This)

Trading in my Parking Spot for my Future (some call it Retirement)

Trading in my Parking Spot

Some months ago I arrived one day at work and found this bicycle hitched to my parking spot.

Ah, I thought, perfect for my goodbye. Oh, don't get me wrong. I have absolutely no inclination to trade in my 4 wheels for something with no protection going down hills. But somehow this bicycle sent me images of a wicker basket filled with flowers, a baguette, a bottle of wine. A winding country lane even maybe.

This bicycle spoke to me about my future.

It filled me with a sense of awe. It reminded me of how the years have flown by, how certain things have broken down, how some scenery has been fantastic and of the surprising potholes that have shown up. 

You know, those deep ruts that make you lean and hold on to the handlebars tightly. The ones that form (it seems) almost overnight. The bad habits along with the better ones. The unexpected turns in your career, in your health, the dead halt in your ambition as you take care of the necessities. How you kiss your creativity farewell and put it in your back pocket hoping that it will stay put safely...until later. (Tweet This)

Still or Scream?

A writer I know told me that she did her best writing after her parents died, they were in their nineties. She finally had the freedom to speak from her heart about the dysfunction that lived in the house that she had grown up in.

Still or Scream?  Courtesy Arno_M Pixabay

Someone else said that she found her husband in bed with a girl young enough to be his daughter. She, a seemingly contained person, walked into the closet they shared and cut up every one of his dress shirts. They became all short-sleeved. Then she went to the kitchen and made a list of what she’d take in the divorce.

Why is it that we need a catastrophe of some sort, in order for us to abandon our limits and to tell the truth? Our feelings belong only to us, we need to recognize that when they start rattling us that they are telling us something. They are trying to get our attention by making us uncomfortable. We don't need to wait for a disaster.

No one, not even those who know us the best can understand our deepest emotions. They have not lived each day in our skin. They have not hidden in corners with our tears or laughed with us in the darkness at what we consider the absurdity of life.

One of our biggest fears, unfortunately, is what would happen if we were to be “too honest”. If we actually told the ones who offend us how much they annoy us or that we see through their lies. Because we are for the most part governed by good manners and kindness even when we walk away in frustration. 

We don’t want to be the bad guy. We don’t want to be the one who is perceived as mean. Although through experience most of us know that sometimes being direct, by being brutally honest is the only way to save our selves.

How Yoga Put Savings in my Wallet

Each week I look forward to my evening yoga class. As each teacher I've had has told me, yoga will become a part of your life, you will take your practice with you off the mat.

And indeed that is true. I found out how true in a shopping mall.

Fitting in a practice takes some juggling. We are running between our expectations and our goals and rarely have time to relax. But Yoga put savings in my wallet one day and let me tell you how.

Before I head to my yoga class, I often walk for half an hour in a shopping mall across the street from where the yoga class is held. A January clearance sale (don't you love those 70% off signs?) in one of my favourite clothing stores stopped me in my brisk walk.

By the time I walked out of the store I was "richer" and could Celebrate! If you have been following along, you will know that Celebrate! is my word for this year.

In this store, I met a very assertive salesperson and because of what I have learned through yoga, I was able to walk away peacefully. We've all experienced someone like this, someone who won't stop talking, who follows you around constantly making suggestions. So annoying.

I'm a minimalist, I said. I choose carefully. She had not heard of Courtney Carver's Project 33. Wearing 33 items or less for 3 months would not make sense to this salesperson.

Oh, a person can have more than ONE pair of black pants, she said as she thrust another pair towards me. I'll just put this in the changing room for you, it will be PERFECT with whatever else you have at home.

And so it went on, and on, and on.

Don't get me wrong, I love a good sale. But minimalism and yoga have taught me about simple things. About calm, and making choices. About considering and not rushing decisions. About knowing when you are right to walk away.

I did try on a number of pairs of pants, all in various shades of black! But as I kept my eye on the time, I knew that I was already too late to get to my yoga class. We don't always have time to decide on our own time. (Tweet This)

I need time to think and decide, I said to her. Which we all know are words that no salesperson ever wants to hear.

Not long ago, I would have struggled with saying that. I would have opened my wallet and bought at least one thing just to get out of the store, or so I didn't appear rude, or unappreciative of her attention. And I, like many of us would have ended up with one more pair of black pants!

That day, although I missed my yoga class, I was able to walk away "richer". Not only in my wallet but also in my soul. 

I was able to acknowledge who I was inside and to not need more outside. (Tweet This)

How to choose your Word for the Year

Perhaps choosing a new word for the year is an established practice for you. Or maybe this is the first time you've heard of it. Let me invite you to One Word 365, it is an adventure worth going on.

The Word you choose will show up in your life in all kinds of ways this year. Maybe, it's always been there and only now you are noticing it? Maybe it suddenly came to you as the universe sometimes does to us (gently or like a thunderbolt). Or maybe, you've been pondering the perfect word to set your new year off with a kick.

How to choose your Word for the Year - Celebrate!

I've chosen a word for the last decade or so and have found that it has taught me more about myself and those around me. It's made me more conscious. You'll notice that my word this year ends in an exclamation mark! Yes, that extra addition was intentional.

I know that each time I think of Celebrate! I will feel the exclamation point! I will hear Three Dog Night singing away.

You might need a quiet year, you could choose ... home, meditate, read, even silence. Let these words enter your daily living. Use them not to fill in the gaps but to be your norm.

You might be ready for an energetic year, you could choose... goal, focus, dedicate, train, learn. You've waited and put so many things in place. This is your year! You're ready to show the world. Now go do it!

You might be entering a new phase of your life. A word such as... reflect, forgive, patience, release. You could be in the midst of change. The world does this to us sometimes and asks us to accept. It is our job just to listen.

So many wonderful choices to get your new year going. The years come and go and believe me, you will see your Word fulfill itself in your life if you allow it.

My husband chose "Lean", he's a clever kind of guy. He's choosing to Lean into his business, to stay Lean this year, and to Lean into the challenges that come his way. A lot of choices wrapped up in a four letter word.

A friend has chosen "Hygge"(pronounced hue-guh) a Danish word used to acknowledge the cozy, comfortable moments in our daily life. She will no doubt appreciate the satisfaction her word will bring her this year.

In past years, I've chosen Simplify, Open, Trust, Believe just to name a few. Each one brought me experiences and awareness of staying in the moment. At different times, each taught me when to keep my silence and when to recognize that it was time to make a decision.

Each choice will give direction. Which word you choose will depend on your circumstance, no word is "wrong". The word you choose will be right for you. (Tweet This)

Give it a try, and tell me what shows up in your life.

New Year, New Word. What do you need this year? (Tweet This)

Sweet Writing at the Right Moment

They say the longer you postpone something, the harder it is to get going. True, no? Think of it. Cleaning your house, shopping for an occasion, writing? See what I did there? Snuck in my personal issue where you least expected it. If you are a writer you’ll know what I mean, we’re both sneaky that way.

I wonder why I just didn’t get out of bed when the flow of words formed into a lovely rhyming poem one night this past week. Why I didn’t carry my small sized fits-into-a-pocket notebook and jot down some brilliant thoughts while I travelled on the bus. Why the sweet lullaby moment during the commercial celebrating family which came on during dinner time didn’t get scribbled on my paper napkin?

Why? Why? Why?

Have my flying thoughts gone out my window and into the house next door? Is that why I see my neighbour tapping away furiously on his laptop, while I stare at the shadows on my wall. Watch them take shape. While I shift ever so slightly to see if I have the power to make that odd twinkling alien light move like a crazy comet. 

Sweet Writing at the Right Moment

That man, head bowed surely doesn’t have my affliction. I see his light on at the same odd hours I walk around in the dark of my house. Afraid to turn on the light and bear witness to my lack of words. How long can I hide in this place?

So I walk, as the twilight descends, the breeze cools, even the dog’s barking seems melancholy. Do dogs get sad at their lack of accomplishment on any particular day? Don’t worry says my Muse, I am here, waiting. Waiting for WHAT? I yell back angrily. But he chuckles at me, plays me for the fool that I am. And he doesn’t answer. For the right moment, or maybe he meant for the write moment. That's what my heart answers back.

I am curious, I am mystified, I am eating way too much sugar. Where have my words gone? Such a terrible time of year for those of us who just cannot resist chocolate in any form. And that is another reason why I walk. It is not to shed pounds, it is to put some distance between me and the plates of goodies that keep arriving at my door.

Someone told me once that when they were struggling with cookie temptation, that they wrapped the sweet trays with tin foil and packing tape and took them directly to the garbage can. She went through a lot of tape that year, she said. And only once did she set the adjacent neighbours' light sensors off at midnight while she stood in the back alley and sliced open a package with kitchen sheers. The neighbourhood dogs barked loudly too.

I, of course, would never do that! I have finished my walk and still, all I think of is sweets. All I'm doing is peering at my neighbour typing away on his laptop. Horrible man, there is probably not a single cookie crumb to be seen on his desk.

Then I hear my Muse saying STOP. Sit still and write this down. Because just like eating chocolate, writing is a good habit for you too.

Sweet writing just takes the right moment. (Tweet This)

Eating chocolate and writing are both good habits. (Tweet This)

The Thank you Wave

The Thank you Wave

You know the Thank you Wave, the one you get when you let someone into the traffic flow. Doesn’t it create a smile on your face? The Wave that says so many things.

 * Thanks for letting me in, I have to get to the daycare to pick up my child.

*  Thanks, I’ve had a rotten day and I really appreciate it!

*  Aww thanks, so many other people ignored my turn signal.

Just a simple Wave.

Freshly arrived from a big city into my new hometown, many decades ago, I found it remarkable how many people gave you the Wave. But now my town is a big city and you see the Wave less frequently. People are more rushed, people are more busy.

So, let’s start today wherever you are in the world.

Let’s start a trend together. The giver and the receiver. 

To pause on our way, acknowledge someone’s need, be courteous, then let them in! You might be surprised when you get the Wave. It’s just a simple Wave, but it’s so much more.

Do it today. Do it tomorrow. Do it even when you rather not! Giving and receiving as we continue our lives.

Kindness, a two-way street . We need more of it.

Then tell me where you’re waving from.

It’s just a simple Wave, but it’s so much more. (Tweet This)

How a simple act of kindness can start a trend, now. (Tweet This)

5 Boys and a Dog Named Radar

Mrs. Packet was the mother of a friend of mine from my teenage years. 

She was tall and lean and mothered five sons, the one she called Number Two was my friend. Four of her sons topped 6 feet 3 inches and the remaining one had red hair. The looks of that son were never talked about because all the boys had such different faces anyway, not one like another, except four of them had long legs.

Mr. Packet was what might be called a busy man. He hardly ever seemed to be around and I don't remember his face at all.

5 Boys and a Dog Named Radar

Mrs. Packet was adorable. She had convinced her sons that she was quite deaf, but I think she used this as an excuse to her advantage. Who truly wants to hear what comes out of your five boys anyway, verbally or in some other manner?

Once when I was visiting, I escaped into the kitchen and saw her as she sat quietly sipping her tea. Silently she sat in the dark pretending maybe of a life without so many growing boys and men around her house.

She looked at me at first as an oddity, a girl no doubt who might actually listen to what she said. We chatted for a few minutes although I don't recall what it was about. Maybe it was in reference to something I was wearing because surely she didn't have that kind of conversation with any of the five. I don't remember repeating anything so I kept her secret that just maybe she wasn't as deaf as her household believed.

The Packets had a dog named Radar. He was small and wiry and ran in circles around the tall legs and the red-haired one that lived in his house. Radar barked as each boy sped down the road every morning and announced joyfully each past-curfew arrival late in the evening. But of course, Mrs. Packet didn’t hear any of it, maybe.

I wonder now, decades later, what those five boys did with their lives and if any of them have a dog. And I hope that Number Two turned out as kind as his Mom was to me in the silence of that kitchen.

Some Moms choose to be deaf. (Tweet This)

Five boys and a dog named Radar keep a Mom quiet. (Tweet This)

For more on my interest in large families, read No Pretend Siblings Needed.

*Mrs. Packet's name has been changed but Radar's name has not, if you think you know this family, say hello from me.

Crossing the Street Between the Pylons

I’m getting tired of the orange pylons that we have along every thoroughfare. The construction in my city seems like it has been going on forever. Pylons that were shiny and orange are now even less appealing, they’ve been rained on and snowed on and run over too.

In my attempts to circumvent some of the busier, traffic-jammed roads on the way to work each day, I drove a different route this morning. A familiar route, through a part of town where I used to live a decade ago. 

I could see the passing of time, the renovations up and down the street. I saw the large For Sale sign on the house on a corner saying, “legal basement suite”, which in other words meant, ‘more money required’.

I wove through a community that held many memories, of walking with my children when they clung to my hands. And then later of them being dragged for a family walk as they walked on the other side of the street pretending not to know me.

As I wove my way into the area on the more 'affluent' side of the street, I proceeded through two school zones, slowing for the speed bumps and watching for excited little children on their way to school. 

Crossing the Street Between the Pylons

Then a smile spread across my face, I couldn’t help it when I saw him. A mentally challenged man I used to see each morning more than a decade ago, I'll call him Tommy for this writing. He could be in his thirties or forties by now. Hard to tell with those amongst us who live happily. He cautiously made his way across the icy sidewalks oblivious of the clear sidewalks on the other side of the street. I was reminded of how content he looked each morning in his tidy clothes and brushed back hair when I used to see him each morning.

We all have orange pylons in our lives, I wonder how Tommy deals with his?

How often do we forget to acknowledge the simple things? The people who teach us just by being on the sidelines of our day?

Let's make peace with who we are and where we are in our lives. Because crossing the street might make it easier but it won't necessarily make us happier.

We all have orange pylons in our lives, how do we deal with ours? (Tweet This)

Crossing the street might make it easier but does it make us happier? (Tweet This)