THE BIG GAME

Today I went to the grocery store with Cooter, taking only one thing into account.

We needed food.

The three things I didn’t take into account were:

1–It’s Saturday.

2–It’s the day before SUPER BOWL SUNDAY. (that was me yelling with the special effect echo right there, in case you missed it)

3–They were grilling some good smelling ribs outside the grocery store to sell.

So, to say it was crowded would be an understatement.

So I won’t say it.

 

But I will share what Cooter said as we were leaving.  “Mama, this is what you call ‘rush hour.'”

“Really?” I said, holding back my laughter.  “Why?”

“Well, everyone’s getting ready for the BIG GAME.  Am I supposed to watch the BIG GAME?  Have you ever watched the BIG GAME, Mama?  Wait, who’s playing in the BIG GAME?”

(And yes, his voice did boom all announcer-like every time he said those two words.)

“Well, it’s the Seattle Seahawks playing the New England Patriots.”

“Oh well, I’m for the Seattle Seahawks, yes.”

I nodded and said, “Good.”

“Wait, who’s playing the other team?”

I laughed and teasingly said, “The Seahawks are playing the other team.”

He laughed too.  “No Mama, who are the Seahawks playing?”

“The Patriots.  The New England Patriots.”

(And to show you how packed the store was, it took us this entire conversation to get to where we were parked.)

As he got into the car, he said, “Yes, okay no, I don’t think the Patriots need to win.”

“Me either, buddy.”  (Long story, but yeah.)

“You know why?”  he asked me as he buckled himself in.

As I unloaded the cart, I absentmindedly asked, “Why?”

“Because England has no business playing football.  That should definitely NOT be their national sport!”

I laughed out loud and made a mental note to focus on a little more geography in our homeschooling.  SOON.

As I was about to take the cart back to the corral, I heard him say, “You know what should be the national sport for them?  You know what they should be playing instead?”

“No buddy, I don’t.  What?”

“QUIDDITCH!” he yelled, kicking his legs and laughing gleefully.  “QUIDDITCH IS WHAT THEY SHOULD BE PLAYING INSTEAD OF FOOTBALL!”

And so there you have it.  The Zoo Crew’s Super Bowl predictions.  Not only should all balls at the BIG GAME be properly inflated, but there should apparently be three of them.  As in Quidditch.  Because those boys from England, that’s all they should be playing.

Giving thanks for the laughter and wishing you all a SUPER day, whether you watch the game, just the commercials, or nothing at all.  Make it SUPER whatever you do!

Love to all.

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Learning from a Bear

The littles and I have been reading A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond.  In anticipation of the movie, don’t you know.

Because I am THAT parent.  The one who treks all over trying to find a copy of the original book.  (Speak to me of the “movie adaptations,” and I may not be able to look at you the same way–or at all–ever again.  #booksnob)

And the one who has us reading it BEFORE we go see the movie.  After all, that’s what it says to do right there on the cover.

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Finding the original was harder than I thought it would be.  The on-line megastore was sold out; they said it would take weeks to deliver.  Our local bookstore sold out every time a copy came in.

We finally saw one behind the cash register as we were checking out at the other bookstore in town, and no one had claimed it.

So we did.

We’ve been reading it a chapter at a time.  We were all excited because there are only 8 chapters.  We thought we could zip on through it.  But the chapters are very long, so it’s taking us a little longer than we anticipated.  We are enjoying our time reading aloud to each other though.  In the car, at home–it’s an amusing story.  And precious.  I laughed out loud over the spelling of “Modom” when the store salesman snootily addressed Mrs. Brown.  I could hear his tone perfectly.

Today it was my turn to read aloud.  Poor Paddington.  He was in quite a pickle.  He just got this new overcoat that he was quite thrilled about, but when he bent over the hood covered up his face.  Only he thought the lights had gone out.  So he headed towards what he believed to be the door and wound up in the window display, knocking everything over.  When he realized what had happened, he said, “Oh dear. I’m in trouble again.”  He realized that some people, most likely a lot of people would be cross.  And then he thought–

“People weren’t very good at having things explained to them, 

and it was going to be difficult explaining how his duffle coat hood had fallen over his head.”*

Bless him.  And he’s right, isn’t he?

How often do I jump to conclusions and start my ranting?  Rarely taking the time to let someone explain…..

Over spilled cups, broken toys, things missing, unlocked doors, locked doors, things not picked up, assignments not done…..

Oh me, Paddington, I’m one of THOSE people.

And I’m sorry.

Tonight I’m thankful for time reading with my littles.  I look forward to seeing the movie with them. I just hope we finish it in time.  It seems like movies come and go so quickly from the theaters these days.

I’m also thankful for books published almost sixty years ago that still have important things to say to us today.  I give thanks for the little bear with the hat that is his best so he doesn’t want a new one, and for my children’s innocent laughter over the things he says and does. (A bear who loves bacon and tucks it in his case to take along for the day?  Who wouldn’t love him, right?)

Most of all, I am grateful for a little bear who touched my heart and softened it a bit today.  I want to be the patient one so very badly.  I want to be one who listens first and reacts second.  I am afraid I have a long way to go though.

Wishing for us all a patient and listening heart and mind…..after all, hoods that fall over faces, that sort of thing could happen to anyone…..

Love to all.

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*Love this story by Michael Bond, copyrighted 1958.  To read more about it or order your own copy, click here.

the low road

 

over and over

I’ve heard them say,

“take the high road”

take it and you won’t regret it

 

but I wonder,

if that’s all I ever walk along,

how will I ever meet those you told us to help

how will I ever know the burdens they carry

 

was the high road where you met those you helped

those you shared the News with

those for whom your kind of love was a very new and precious thing

and it made them laugh with a buoyant joy like never before?

 

or was it the low road

down yonder by the creek

where folks gathered day after day

lost and lonely even in the crowds,

hearts hurting from choices made

hearts that saw no second chances

hearts weary and without hope

 

I’ve walked down there myself

though I’d rather folks not know that

I’ve tumbled headfirst into that creek

and found myself lost

on this journey

and when I looked around

I saw my own reflection in the eyes

of those also there

 

we have felt the pain

carried the shame

and lived to walk again

 

and I wonder if

it’s not so much about the road

we’re on, I think,

but maybe

it’s more about whom we love

and how we love

as we are walking it

and what we do after

that matters the most

 

pic of Granny's road

 

Hey! Watch Where You’re Aiming That Thing

Remember that old saying about pointing fingers?

That while you’re pointing your finger at someone else, there are three other fingers pointing back at you?

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Yeah.  That one.

Tonight I was finishing up supper for the crew after a long day of thinking and wondering about why folks behave the way they do.  Why certain choices are made.  Why what happens, happens.

And before I could finish my “finger pointing” thoughts–you know the ones:

she must’ve lost her ever-lovin’ mind

some folks just got no raisin’s 

there’s just no accounting for how some folks behave

I sure as shootin’ never would’ve…..

You’ll never find me doing that…..

 

Ummm, yeah.  Those kind of thoughts.

Before I could finish one of those in my mind, (thankfully) I was reminded of those other three fingers pointing back at me.

Three fingers for three thoughts that are TRUE, whereas all those that I was trying to finish in my mind MAY OR MAY NOT BE TRUE.

*You don’t know what you don’t know.

*You will never know the whole story.

*So you should probably hush your mouth.  Oh, and put your finger away.

This was what my heart said to my brain.  Or vice versa.  Either way, they both got the message.  In those few seconds of realization, I let out a major sigh and so much “bad stuff” was released.

Not my monkey, not my circus.  Not my story to write or tell.  Or to judge.

I don’t know how we can get so all fire set on judging someone else’s behavior or choices or lifestyle.  But we do, don’t we?

It’s a struggle.

Tonight I’m thankful for the reminder to keep my nose in my own business and keep my fingers all in a row–the better to offer a handshake, a pat on the back, or a hug.

I sure can’t do any of those when I’m pointing, can I?

And right now, I’m thinking the world needs more hugs than fingers pointed anyway.

Love and a big hug to all.

 

Hopeful

Click, click, click.  I heard the clicking of her paws against the floor as I went into the kitchen to fix lunch for me and the littles.  Miss Sophie followed at a close pace.  It’s become so much a part of my everyday that I hardly even notice she does it.  I account for her in my feet’s personal space almost without thinking.  She’s there.  She hangs out.  It’s what she does, and she’s rather good at it.  Nothing gets made in that kitchen that she’s not in the know about.  Ah, the recipes (good and bad) she could share.

Today Cooter and our Princess were sitting at the counter eagerly awaiting their food.  After I got them settled, I started fixing my plate of leftovers to be heated up and feasted upon.  (Leftovers are pretty much my favorite meal, y’all.)

“Mama!  Look at Sophie!” Princess was loud and excited.

Cooter looked over and started laughing.  “She’s watching your every move, Mama.”

I looked down at her.  Nothing new there.

“Mama, she looks–” Princess paused for a second–“hopeful.”

“Yes, hopeful!” her brother echoed.

I looked down.

Miss Sophie--"hopeful"

Miss Sophie–“hopeful”

I’ve seen a lot of expressions on our precious pooch, but I’ve never used hopeful to describe them.  And yet–

spot on.

She DID look hopeful.

Hope?  FILLED with hope?

I’ll take some of that please.

This evening in the car as we were running from one thing to the next, I asked my crew about being hopeful and what that looked like.

My very literal children made faces that looked more pained than anything.

“No, no, no–I mean, what does it feel like?  To be hopeful?”

Cooter answered without pausing.

“A wave.”

Wow.  Really?

“Yes, yes, a wave!” Princess said.

“You know, ’cause you’re hoping, ‘yes, it’s going to happen’ then ‘no, it probably won’t’ and then ‘yes, it’s going to happen’…..” Cooter explained.

“Mama, poor Sophie was probably thinking ‘she’s going to give me some food’ and then ‘oops, no I guess not’ and then ‘hey, I think she’s going to…..'” Princess did her best imitation of our pup.

And that was when both my children got distracted and started laughing all over again.

(For the record, Miss Sophie never had a chance.  The only “people” food she gets is what hits the ground that she can grab before I do.)

A wave.  I believe it.

And I love that image.  With all that is going wrong in our world right now, I could use a good soak in some hope.  Dip my toes in first, testing it out, and then just plop right down and let it wash all over me.

Hope.

A balm for the soul.

Here’s wishing you all a “puppy wishing for some ‘real’ food kind of hope,” complete with that precious expression.  May wave after wave of hope crash all over you until you are laughing and running towards it to ride the next one all the way back to peace and light.

Love to all.

 

where were you?

some are going to ask you, “Where were you?,” you know

and others will claim you were never absent

that all things work to the good

and words like that

 

I won’t ask you

I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer

but I do wonder why all the brokenness

in the midst of a day where my little boy

is beaming because he built his first

Lego model from start to finish

all by himself

and on a day that found my girl

dancing and singing and making up stories

while her big sister beamed and found joy in the

silly and yet important things

 

in the midst of all of that

why this brokenness?

the sun was shining, for goodness’ sake

so many had spoken to you and asked for help

 

my heart aches because they were after a dream,

but because someone was hurting and lost

they are no longer here

to dream

to laugh

to love

 

and I want to know why

but I am hesitant to ask

because I’m afraid of what the answer might be

was it me?

did I fail him?

or another like him?

did I fail to stop and smile,

pay attention, take up time,

give away the love you so freely give

just for the sake of giving it?

 

some will ask where you were

but I think I know–

weeping with the rest of us,

tears streaming down your face,

wishing it could have all been different

 

and it could have

 

if only

there were no brokenness

 

and that, you’ve left up to us, haven’t you?

 

Where were you?

pleading with us to look

and see

and love

 

and love

 

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And the Award Goes To…..

What a beautiful day!

I hope it was a sunshine-filled day where you are too.  We’ve had our fair share of cloudy/cold/gray/rainy days, and I love those too, to be quite honest, but today the sunshine and blue skies just suited.

It’s been a day of taking care of business.  (More cleaning out of things that belonged to those I love.  Today it wasn’t as hard as it has been, and that tells me I can do this.  It’s not easy, it’s not fun, but it’s doable. Which is good, because it has to be done eventually.)

It has also been a day of laughter.

My sister Mess Cat and her little guy Shaker mixed in with this crew?

A blast.

While my Fella and Leroy were hauling the heavy things from over yonder back to the house, we watched the children.

Ahem.

Well, we did.

And we talked about silly things like TV shows and things our children have been up to.  We talked about serious things like worries and the like.  And we talked about books we have been reading.

Mess Cat and I both LOVE books.  We both love to read.  Over the years we’ve shared many a good book back and forth and enjoyed talking about them.  (Waiting for Normal by Leslie Connor, I’m especially looking at you. #tearsofsorrowandjoy )

Hey, Mess Cat, I think we’ve had our own little book club going and didn’t even know it.

But that was before.

Before the heartbreak and pain and grief.

It was interesting and somewhat comforting to me today when Mess Cat said that she really hasn’t been reading like she used to.

I was worried it was only me.

And since she’s making a concentrated effort and being intentional about picking up a book and reading it, I am encouraged.  Maybe we will get back to being the avid readers we were before the grief and anxiety took over.

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As we were talking, I hopped up from my Roost and found the book I picked up for a bargain price the other day.  I had to buy it for the blurb on the back alone.  HILARIOUS.  I shared the first chapter with Mess Cat and my oldest, and we were all three laughing until tears were rolling.

Good stuff that.

I’ve missed it.

Aub said that her Psychology professor has used some of this writer’s material in her classes.  I found that fascinating, so I read the author’s biography on the book jacket.

And this grabbed my attention.

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I read it aloud to my sister and my firstborn, and again we laughed.

It felt so good.

Mess Cat said through the laughter, “Self-awarded!”

And then the question came that simply had to be asked.

“So what award would you give yourself if you had that power?”

We laughed some more and batted around ideas.

After much contemplation this evening, I decided I would give myself the “most likely to compliment a stranger in a checkout line, at the grocery store, or anywhere else in the general public.”

In addition to this, I also award myself, “Mama who can frustrate her children in 10 seconds flat using less than fifteen words and no body language.”

I’m just that good, y’all.

Tonight I am thankful for the laughter.  For the feeling of not being alone in this journey of raising children, missing parents, cleaning house, and not reading books, I am especially grateful.  I’m also happy that I could find some things about myself that were “award worthy.”

What about you?  What award would you give yourself if you had that power?

(and here’s the thing–you do have that power)

So go ahead.  What’s your award?

Wishing you a day of appreciating all the wonderful and quirky things about yourself.  Name them.  It’s a good thing to love the person you spend most of your time with.  It just makes you a kinder person with everyone else.

Love to all.

 

My Shark Tank Worthy Idea

Today I was folding clothes.

Nothing different about that.  Most days find me folding a load or two.

But today as I was taking on Mt. Washmore, I had a revelation–a business idea.

Somebody sign me up for Shark Tank.  I’m going to be an entrepreneur.

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I was folding these two shirts that we got on Monday when Aub and I attended the workshop with Hugh Hollowell and David LaMotte.  I smiled at the memories of the day and all the great discussions, and I realized that would likely happen each time I wore or folded these shirts.

And maybe, really, that was why I got them?

I thought about the shirt my oldest got at the Miranda Lambert concert.  Did she get it because, more than anything in this life, she wanted to wear Miranda Lambert’s face across her chest?  I don’t think so.  I think she got caught up in the moment and wanted to have something–a t-shirt–to remember it by.

Same thing with the Jonas Brothers concert, the trip to Disney, and the field trip to see Wicked at the Fox–something to wear to remember those feelings and emotions and the experience.

And so here’s where my business idea comes in.

An app (because, obviously) that you can hit a button and the moment is “captured” and a unique, custom-made t-shirt to commemorate the moment is immediately designed and you receive it in 24-48 hours.  Happy Wearing!  And Remembering.

I mean, when you attend these big events, the shirts and hoodies and whatnot are all already there.  But what about those times when there are no souvenir sellers?

When you cook a meal that everyone raves about…..*click*  “Mama’s cooking RULES” shirt at your door the very next day

When you make it to your appointment on time despite all the bad traffic…..*click* “Keep Calm and Let Mama Drive”

When you have solved the problem of how to fit all of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher AT ONE TIME…..*click* “Because #cleandishescleansink”

When you breathe in the smell of freshly washed hair when your little one comes in to hug you…..*click* “Mamahood–Best. Job. Ever.”

When you are reading a really good book and you hear your children calling you and so you tell them you’re playing hide and seek…..*click* “This is not the Mama you are looking for” (sorry, had to have the token Star Wars reference)

All of those precious, small moments that you just wish could last a moment or two or an eternity longer happen, you would be able to capture them and have a t-shirt to remember it by.

How cool would that be?

Tonight I’m thankful for the reminder that not every precious moment in this life is a big “live one night only show” one–that there are those small quiet and not so quiet ones that mean everything and we wish could last forever that are beautiful too.

Wishing you all a t-shirt wearing, slogan worthy day.

Love to all.

 

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In all seriousness, I will wear these shirts we got on Monday because I believe in their message and because the purchase of them went to help with their mission.  I do believe Love Wins, and it is my hope that we will all see the person beyond the homelessness and find what we have in common and celebrate THAT.  If you’d like to support the mission of Love Wins and/or wear a really cool shirt just like me–you can click here and order your own.  Now that’s something to smile about.

 

Waving in the Rain

So Miss Sophie is very particular about her morning constitutional.  As I am limited as to how far I can take her in the mornings, there are days we go up and down our street, back and forth, until she is able to focus and make things *ahem* happen.

Rain, rain, and more rain

Rain, rain, and more rain

This morning it was cold.  And wet.  And raining.  I don’t mean drizzling.  It was pouring down as we went out for her to take care of business.  I was surprised to see the guys working on the new house on our street.  In this weather?  They are solid and hard workers, I’m not even kidding.  And skilled.  It fascinates me to watch them bricking up the house–they are true artists.

Because of the weather I was very eager for her to take care of business and for us get back in the shelter of our home.  Unfortunately, it took a few minutes for the rain to saturate through her lovely fluffy coat so she was unaware and happy.  She was all about sniffing the new smells and hopping over puddles.  Finally after a few minutes I saw signs that she was ready to “go.”  I breathed a sigh of relief and stood ready to wait with my bag in hand.  That was when I saw two of the house builders getting in a truck.

Nonononononono…..

But yes, they closed the doors and started up the truck.  Distracted, my particular girl gave up her intended task and watched them leave.

Oh me.  I was cold and wet and frustrated.  Having no idea how long it was going to take her to get situated again and thinking about the 100% chance of rain All. Day. Long. I was really frustrated.  And I found myself muttering under my breath, “I hate these folks working on these houses.  Man!”

Wait.  What was that?

On a fluff reality TV show where the word “amazing” is used almost every twenty seconds, a guest host came in and put a jar on the counter and called it the “amazing” jar.  A dollar in the jar every time that word was said.  By the time the episode was over, the jar was quite full of dollar bills.  Yep. Sounds about right.  They do say it a lot.

After I said what I did this morning, almost without thinking, I thought of that jar.  And it hit me–

those guys had no idea what I’d said about them.  They weren’t hurt at all by what I’d impulsively uttered.

But I was.  My heart hurt almost immediately.

When I thought of the jar, I wondered–

what if every time we utter a hateful word or have an unkind thought–

what if it helps to fill the Dark Side’s “jar?”

While I know those men didn’t feel a bit of hurt–they even gave a friendly wave as they drove past my bedraggled self and my wet pooch–I know something shifted.  My heart ached.  I wished I could take those unheard words back.

 

When they were working on the bricking yesterday.  It is amazing to watch.  They know exactly where to put each one, how to turn it, and they work as this amazing team, very efficient and organized.

When they were working on the bricking yesterday. It is amazing to watch. They know exactly where to put each one, how to turn it, and they work as this amazing team, very efficient and organized.  I don’t hate them at all.  I want to be as skilled and focused as they are.

Because I don’t hate them.  I’m actually quite impressed and thankful for them.   They are doing a beautiful job.

And yet, I think that somewhere, “Darth Vader” was probably cheering over the view of what he saw and heard me say.

I can picture him, fist pumping–“Another one for our hate jar!  Yes!”

I don’t know about y’all, but I don’t want to be a part of that.

Tonight I’m thankful for a reminder of the ripples our attitudes cause, even if they’re ever so small, and the reminder that every single word we utter and thought we have can change this world.  Even if it’s only in our own hearts, something shifts, something changes–

and I really want it to be for the better.

I’m sad for where my mind went in its frustration today.  I have a long way to go.  A major character flaw, and something to work on.

(Note to self:  When I’m wet and cold, I can go over to the Dark Side very quickly and quite easily.  No cookies required. Be sure to guard against THAT.)

Wishing you all a day of filling the “amazing” jar instead of the hate one.  Let’s make it a good day and smile–and wave in the rain.  In the words of my brother, “It’s never that serious.”

Love to all.

 

Thursday’s Gonna Come

Two days of thought-provoking, soul-searching conversations filled with laughter and tears and wishing that “what is” could be better and dreaming of how we can make it so…..

and returning with a jolt to the real world of laundry and dishwashers with broken baskets and worrying over food allergies all over again and struggling to understand how your children have more cavities and wishing just this once this child could understand the assignment and get it done without all the struggles–

and all those first world kind of problems.

It would be easy to get on my pity pot and look upon all of this as an interruption.

An interruption to where my mind is going–thinking of what can be done, must be done, to make the world a better place–an interruption to the wheels spinning and all the IMPORTANT things that I MUST DO.

And then, just in the nick of time, I got an e-mail from one of my heroes.

One of the reasons he is my hero is I can look to him for a way to understand things, a way to take action–he sets a good example, and he is willing to share about his experiences so we can all learn from them.

Hugh Hollowell sent out a newsletter titled “The Interruptions Are Our Work.”

Well.

He was spot on with this one–timing and everything.

This man who shared his ideas and laughter and inspired me to dig deeper as we talked and listened Sunday and Monday–he continued on into Thursday.

And for that I am thankful.

Because, my friends, no matter what grand thoughts Sunday and Monday call you to have and think upon, Thursday will come.  With its laundry and coughs and worries and cavities.  It will come.

And here is the grace for Thursday, in the words of Hugh Hollowell of Love Wins Ministry:

“But I have come to see that that is okay. In fact, it’s good. Because more than ever, I can see that the interruptions to my work, the people who interrupt my work, well, they actually are my work. And there’s much work to be done.”

I do not mean to make light of the work that my friend and his staff are doing in North Carolina with people who are dealing with homelessness.  But I do find comfort in these words.  The interruptions are my work.

In this season.

For now.

For far too short a time, these little people and their needs–their meals, their learning, their dirty clothes, their laughter, and regretfully, yes, even their cavities–this is my work.

And I’m privileged to do it.  I just need a wake up call every now and again to remind me of that.

Today I read a comment in the world of social media that made me very sad.  This person wrote that caring for my children, for my home, for my aging parents, for an elderly relative–these things are not contributing to society.  He/she continued on to say that if I were out in the world caring for people who were not my own, whom I wasn’t “obligated” to care for, only then could it really be said that I am contributing to society.

It made me sad because I don’t think this person gets it.  And he or she obviously has never had the privilege and joy of hearing David LaMotte and Hugh Hollowell speak.  I distinctly heard them say that caring for those in our own homes, own families–that’s a part of changing the world for the better.

Tonight I’m thankful for that message.  For the knowing in my heart that what I’m doing matters–and I’m thankful that when I lose sight of that message–I can open up an email from my hero and mentor and read that all of these things that I think might be interruptions of the “important work” there is to do–

This is my important work.

Know this, my friends, what you are doing today matters.

I’m sorry, did you miss that?  Read it with me.

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What

you

are

doing

today

MATTERS.

Whether you are wiping runny noses or signing paychecks

whether you are singing “Let It Go” with your child for the 1,267th time

or planning a going away for a colleague

whether you are reading a book

or writing one

whether you are knitting a dress for your granddaughter’s doll

or buying one at the GW Boutique for your neighbor’s friend

WHAT YOU ARE DOING TODAY MATTERS.

The smile you choose to put on your face, in spite of your worries

The hug you give your grandmother who has aged so much since you last saw her

The friend you are driving to the doctor’s office

The cup of coffee you just rang up for the customer with the bad attitude and no cash for tips

The person you just let merge in front of you in traffic

The change you just dropped in the jar for the family in need

The song you carry in your heart

The shoulder you offer for others to lean and cry on

The laughter you share with another over a memory or joke

WHAT YOU ARE DOING TODAY MATTERS.

No matter where you are, what you are doing.  It is changing the world.

You don’t get a choice in that.

But you do get a choice in how it matters.  Whether it changes life for those around you for the better or not.

Even if they seem not to notice it.

It still matters.

Make it good.

Love to all.

 

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Hugh Hollowell’s newsletter can be read in its entirety here.  I highly recommend signing up to receive those in your inbox.  You never know when they might change your day.  For the better.