The Difference

The difference. 

“There’s a difference between interest and commitment.

 When you’re interested in doing something, you do it only when it’s convenient. 

When you’re committed to something, you accept no excuses; only results.”

Kenneth Blanchard

It’s easy to be interested in something. Often times when you first start something new you are all excited about the possibilities. However, as time goes by your interest might wane, and you find yourself not sticking with what you once found so interesting. 

Commitment, on the other hand, is harder. It requires self-discipline and patience, something that isn’t always easy. However, ironically it’s the commitment that in the long run that can bring you more joy. 

By sticking with a task, even a hard one, you get to experience the fruits of your labor. Nothing like the feeling of a job well done. A close friend of mine has committed to publishing daily on her blog. She just celebrated her nine year blogaversary. When you think about it this really is an amazing accomplishment.

At Weight Watchers being committed to a more structured routine has allowed my maintenance journey to be so much easier. When I was only interested I found myself struggling to succeed because my actions were so wish-washy. 

If you are finding yourself lacking motivation consider moving from interest to commitment. At first it may seem more difficult because of the discipline it may require, however over time you might be surprised by the results.

What We Worry About

What we worry about. 

Several months ago I noticed that compared to my legs my feet were awfully white. In other words there was definitely a tan line right around my ankles. 

Now I knew this was due to the fact that nine times out of ten during the spring you will find me wearing Keens with a pair of ankle length socks. 

So as a result of this fashion choice my feet rarely see the light of day, and remain a pale, white color. Now normally this doesn’t bother me too much, as I’m not too concerned about what the people in line with me at Walmart think about my feet. 

However, when I began to think about my class reunion coming up in June, I found myself thinking twice about this dilemma. It was then that I put up the Keens, and switched into sandals in hopes that I might be able to get a tan on my feet before the big night. 

My daughter had recommended a bronzing product that I could use on my feet, but I was somewhat hesitant to try it because I wasn’t sure if it was going to match my own coloring. Now after a couple of months I’ll have to say it didn’t quite look so stark, but my legs were still much darker. 

At this point it was either attend or not attend, and there was no way I wasn’t going. I’ve been to every class reunion my class has ever had, and we’ve actually had quite a few, and there was no way I was going to miss it. I figured I’d have to risk the faux pas of white feet.

Now of course, on so many levels this really does sound kind of ridiculous, but in all honesty it really did cross my mind often as I anticipated the big event. I spent time worrying about what others might be thinking about the demarcation line between foot and ankle. 

After I returned home from the reunion I couldn’t help but chuckle at myself for obsessing over this relatively minor flaw. Now I may be wrong, but I doubt very seriously if anyone even noticed, and if they did they were kind enough to keep their ridicule to themselves. 

All I remember is a bunch of sixty something classmates having a really great time catching up. There were smiles, and hugs, and laughter, and lots of reminiscing as there should of been. Sometimes we worry about really minor, silly things, and let that get in the way of enjoying life. 

Our fiftieth reunion will be in five years, and believe you me my white feet are still going!

Cathedral Builder

Cathedral builder. 

I came across an old parable recently that was based on the great fire of London in 1666. It goes like this:

Three men were working on the same job. When asked what he was doing, the first man replied that he was laying bricks. The second’s response was that he was building a wall, while the third man shared that he was building a cathedral. 

Now all three men were doing exactly the same thing.  The only difference was in their attitude. The cathedral builder looked passed the mundane action of laying brick after brick, and envisioned the final product-a glorious cathedral built to honor his maker. 

In life we can find ourselves having to do things that we may find boring or monotonous, but how we choose to react to these circumstances can make all the difference. Just like a cathedral is built brick by brick, our life kind of works the same way. 

When we have a vision of the future we want each brick laid can be a reminder of the cathedral we are working toward. This is why you find people doing the simplest of jobs who bring such a joy and light to what they do. 

They understand that their job is more than just a way to pay the bills, but rather a way to make a difference in someone’s life. 

How is your cathedral building coming along?

S’Fruit

S’Fruit.

Last week I helped out at my church’s Vacation Bible School. By helped out, I mean I worked in the kitchen to prepare snacks for the kids. 

One of the snacks we prepared were s’mores. Now before you envision me sweating in front of a bonfire roasting hundreds of marshmallows, we used a more Pinterest friendly version. 

Two graham cracker halves, chocolate frosting, and marshmallow fluff made a much easier version of the snack. As I helped prepare these with a few other women comments were made about how yummy they looked. 

Just about that time another helper walked by with a plate full of fruit left over from breakfast. As I eyed the colorful array of mandarin oranges, bananas, grapes and strawberries I found myself thinking how delicious the fruit looked. 

I couldn’t help, but be a little tickled at how far I’d come. When a bowl of fruit trumps s’mores you know you’ve crossed over to the light side!

Trend Drop-out

Trend drop-out. 

When Chuck and I moved into our new home it was with the understanding that we would  probably be here for about five years. 

After leaving an almost twenty year old house I was exhausted by the constant repairs, and the necessary updating needed to make it ready to sell. My thinking was with a five year old house we might be able to eek by with what is considered trendy five years from now. 

In addition, we would not be needing a new roof or air conditioning unit when the time came to put it on the market. Hopefully, our plans will work out as we transition to Chuck’s inevitable retirement. 

Recently, though, I read an article about the horrors of gallery walls. Now with full disclosure here, I don’t actually have any gallery walls in my home, but apparently they have gone out of style. Along with this are chevrons, the printed word as an art piece, obviously popcorn ceiling, but pray that you have no texture on your ceilings at all, and the obnoxious ceiling fan in your living room. 

It does appear that I might be able to get away with my white kitchen cabinets as long as there is not too much white on white. I’m already living on the edge with granite countertops as opposed to quartz, but mea culpa since I had no choice in choosing anything in this house. 

Dark, light, wood, tile, gray or tan the list goes on of the home decorating faux pas that we may be guilty of without even realizing it. Too much stuff in a minimalistic world, and you could be the talk of your neighborhood. 

As I look around my home I’m pleased with its aethestic. It seems to represent Chuck and I quite nicely. It is less cluttered than previous decor, and many of the accessories are actually pieces of art, including some of Chuck’s art work. 

The color palate, thanks to Havertys, is a relaxing cream, gray and blue. My walls on the other hand tend more toward tan or beige than gray. However, I like their warmth, and they seem to be just fine. I’m the one who never painted over my white walls in my last house, and waited for white to come back in fashion. I never crossed over to the darker European gem tone craze. 

I do remember, though, sometimes feeling a little insecure about the design of my home, and whether I measured up as a decorator. Today after reading the trend outcasts post, I think I’m going to worry just a little less, and keep on enjoying my home just as I like it today. 

After all, “Tomorrow is another day,” and I’ll take the risk of not being trendy. 

Backyard Bluebirds

Backyard bluebirds. 

As I sit here on my back porch enjoying an unseasonably cool summer afternoon, I can’t help but smile at how much I have enjoyed hosting a bluebird family in my backyard. 

When we lived in Frisco the only blue birds we had were blue jays, who I think are some of the most beautifully marked birds. However, at our farm we had blue birds with their vibrant blue wings, and their rust colored breasts. 

We had noticed after we purchased the farm two existing bird houses along the backyard fence. I had no idea that they were put there specifically for bluebirds until that spring when a pair made their home in one. 

When we moved to Euless I noticed that we had blue birds in our area. Chuck suggested putting out some blue birdhouses in hopes of maybe attracting some that following spring. Sure enough we were fortunate enough to get a pair in one of our bird houses. 

We’ve wondered if maybe the two houses were placed too close together to allow to pairs to raise their family? We may need to move one to a different location for next year. Or perhaps the blue bird pair has put out the word that ours is a nice neighborhood in which to raise a family. You know, good schools and all. 

We have so enjoyed watching the mom and dad swoop down onto our fence, and enter in and out of the small round hole on the box. Recently though, we have been amused by the sound of babies chirping each time one of their parents return with dinner. 

The simple act of hanging up a blue bird house we purchased at Walmart has really enhanced the time we spend outside enjoying our back yard. I don’t know if we will be lucky enough to see the babies take flight, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed. 

The Climb

The climb. 

My youngest grandson is almost seventeen months old, and is proving to be quite inept at climbing. 

Of course, this is really not so surprising as he has demonstrated not only a desire for, but incredible strength from the time he was quite young. At two months old he literally would do crunches while sitting in his baby carrier. 

He seemed so determined to somehow get himself upright no matter that he literally didn’t have the ability to at that age. 

Changing his diaper was reminiscent of a WWF wrestling match, and often required two people to get the job done. Once again his incredible strength made it nearly impossible to complete the task. 

Just holding him as he grew older was like wrestling an alligator. He was in that awkward age where he wanted down, but because he wasn’t walking yet you were hesitant to let him go. At his uncle’s wedding we each took shifts to allow the previous person an opportunity to regain their strength. 

Today he is like a little monkey as he climbs whatever is in his way. If he happens to be in the backyard when his Dad arrives home from work, he runs to the fence yelling, “Da Da!” He then proceeds to scale the fence, not fully understanding that if you climb too high you will topple over. 

Yesterday my daughter sent a video of him balancing precariously on the gate with one hand, while he used the other to maneuver the latch. He didn’t skip a beat as the gate began to swing forward. In the background was his father and older brother getting their horse, Lily, ready for Will to take to work. 

Little guy didn’t want to be left out of the action. He definitely is one that will need constant supervision, as to there is no telling where he might end up in a blink of an eye. The struggle is real, folks!

Measurement

Measurement. 

“Don’t measure your progress using someone else’s ruler.”

#Toby Mac Speaker Life

When we measure ourselves against others, against societal norms we may find ourselves lacking. 

Now whether this is true or not remains to be seen. What I consider success, and what you consider success may very well be two completely different things. 

However, in our hard wired nature of wanting to belong, to fit in, to not stand out as different, we might find security in measuring ourselves against others, and trying to conform. 

Using the ruler of those we look up to, those who we perceive as having it all might seem to be the way to go. If only we could feel comfortable marching to the beat of our own drum.

Adam Grant, the author of Originals, points out, “There are two routes to achievement: conformity and originality.” 

Is conformity so bad? Is originality the better way? Perhaps finding where we fit best is the answer, as we stop measuring ourselves against others. 

The Up Side of Failure

The up side of failure. 

As I thought back on my childhood I couldn’t really remember the first time I had failed. Perhaps it was my lack of number sense that contributed to my inability to accurately do a dot-to-dot as a six year old.

 More importantly I don’t remember when I decided it was better just not to try than to fail. 

What I do know, though, is that somewhere along the way I stopped doing the things I wasn’t really good at, and pretty much stuck with the things that assured success. Somehow to me failure was something to be avoided at all costs. 

However, the other day I heard Dr. Laura gives a definition of failure that I really liked. She said, “Failure is an opportunity to try it again or do it in a different way.”

Now what I found fascinating about this point of view was that there was nothing negative about it all. I tried, I failed. So what do I want to do now?

Try it again in the same way or try a completely different approach?

As I thought about this I realized that looking at failure just as an opportunity cast it in a completely different light. 

Recently I had attempted something for the first time. Initially I felt pretty confident in my fledgling beginnings, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was in way over my head. 

As I thought about it I realized that if I were to continue I was going to need to put in a lot more work to make up for what I didn’t know, and I would need to be patient in my venture. It was then I had the choice to continue on or to leave it behind. 

My first attempt had failed, and I pretty much had talked myself out of trying again. I convinced myself that it was too hard, not how I wanted to spend my time, and not really worth the effort required. 

Perhaps more than anything there was no guarantee that in the end I would be successful, and I feared that my time would have been wasted in the failure. 

Except, that as much as I tried to put it out of my mind it kept creeping back begging for attention. Perhaps waiting for the words of Dr. Laura to encourage me to look at failure in a different way. 

Not so much as a negative thing to be avoided, but rather just as an opportunity.

Strong

Strong. 

Three and a half years ago when my first grandson was born I was shocked at how exhausted I was whenever I babysit him. Just lifting him was a struggle since somehow my right forearm seemed to have lost all its strength. 

Of course, I didn’t let this stop me from lifting him, it just required more effort on my part. Fast foreword to today, and I have a second grandson. A grandson who loves to be held and carried around so much that he holds on tightly when you try to put him down. 

What I’ve noticed, though, is that today I’m in much better shape, and I can easily lift my over twenty pound grandson with no difficulty at all. Why just the other day I spent the morning literally chasing my oldest grandson around the park, and lifting my youngest up and down off the playground equipment, and was amazed at how much energy I had. 

What is the difference between then and today? Pretty much daily exercise Monday through Friday. I walk five mornings a week at the gym for thirty minutes. Along with walking, I also use the arm equipment three days a week. 

Each time I think I might want to skip the machines I think about how much I want to be able to lift my grandsons. It works like a charm. Sometimes it’s all about the motivation!

Cupcakes

Cupcakes. 

I came across a story the other day about a teenaged boy named Isaiah Tuckett, who baked, and sold enough cupcakes to take him and his family on a trip to Disney World. This included airfare, hotel, meals and park passes for seven people.

Now as you can well imagine he had to bake quite a few of these in order to earn the sum needed for the trip. As luck would have it the local bakery had recently closed down, and there was a market for the confectionery treats. 

What I found remarkable, and inspiring about the story, though, was that he had asked his parents several times if they could take him to Disney. Disappointingly they explained that there was not enough finances in the family budget for such a trip. 

Now he could have walked away sulking about the unfairness of life, but rather he chose to take a different path. With hard work, perseverance, and some ingenuity he made a way for his dream to come true, and then some. It took him a year, and four thousand cupcakes, but he was able to earn and save $5,000 for the trip.  

When I hear about these kinds of stories it gives me hope in the future. Often we only hear the news-worthy “bad” stories, but someone like this young man is a credit to his generation, and  when I think about the future he has ahead of him it sure looks “sweet!”

The Blank Page Revisited

The blank page. 

For me there is probably nothing more intimidating as the blank page. Not just any page, but the unlined page. I once signed up for an online course that required a blank sketch book and watercolors. 

The instructor was giddy over all the fun we were going to have as we expressed our creativity. The “fun” didn’t last long for me, and after my pitiful attempts I conveniently never finished the course. 

It works the same way when it comes to writing. Give me a brand new unlined journal, and you’re going to find that same blank journal weeks later. Give me lines, lots of lines, and you’ll have one happy camper. 

I couldn’t help but be tickled when a friend and former co-worker of mine posted on Facebook this past weekend how much she loved the blank unlined page. She’s taken on a 30 Day journal challenge this June, and seems to be enjoying herself. 

To quote Rita, “Lines make me feel trapped.”

I find it fascinating that in a world with so many different ways to look at things we often fall into thinking there is a best way for all. Be aware that the choices you make are in sync with your true nature.