Thanks for not killing me... I am stronger.

“That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche

Like many others, I go through some traditionally tough days every year.

Most of them are attached to one of the most devastating events of my life - the death of my son, Seth. In addition to the date that he died, I experience a profound sense of somberness around his birthday, and also on events where those who served are recognized, like Memorial Day and Veterans Day. His missing presence is also noticeable to me for every major holiday or significant family event. During these times, I'd say I'm rather like a person whose immunity is low. My skin is a little thinner, and my heart much softer. Tears are just right there at the brim of my eyes, ready to flow. Throughout the last nine years, I've gotten a little better at prepping, not in the sense of expecting or wanting to fall apart, but more like taking a bit more Vitamin C before I travel. I do what I can to build up my immunity because if there's one thing I've come to learn, it's this:

People will continue to live their lives, and you can't expect them to treat you with kid gloves.

I don't wear some sign that says, "My oldest son died on April 14th, so please give me some space." Even the most sensitive of humanity may have the occasion to come to me during these times looking for their need to be served and push a button or two. I get that. Believe me; I've been on the other side plenty of times. Those folks remind me that life goes on, and this event is not at the center of everyone's universe (and nor should it be mine if I intend to live a healthy life). Ah, but then there are those special few. Those who are completely aware of how challenging certain times can be for us but are so wrapped up in their agenda and desires that they discount the importance. They come at you with the same vengeance, regardless of the timing.

And the first few years it would happen to me, it did crush me.

It's easy to waste your precious time trying to figure out what would motivate someone to be cruel. Then more angst feeling guilty about your anger. It helps to remember that some people are just the victims of a condition that can only be cured by therapy. It's best just to choose forgiveness and opt to wish these people well and hope for their healing. Take note that avoiding their path is best for you, especially when you are susceptible to wounds. Perhaps learning this lesson is what has helped me to find a new kind of benefit of this interaction. It's the understated meaning of Nietzsche's quote above.

They didn't kill you, and they helped you to be stronger.

Taking up a shield of understanding vs. absorbing a blow adds a new kind of strength during these challenging times. Oddly, their behavior then makes us stronger. They become a part of an important reminder.

A reminder that you have survived one of the worst days of your life.

And now, you can do more than survive. 

Thrive.

Cheers. 

Memorial Day, From One Who Knows What It Really Means.

"Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it."

~Samuel Clemmons (AKA, Mark Twain)

This is a picture of a young man who has the world by the tail. Who had achieved his dreams.

This is my son, Seth. This picture was taken just weeks before he boarded a plane to go to Germany and begin training for deployment to Iraq. A California boy who loved the water, the sunshine and chillin'. Proudly displaying his Tags. This blog is about why Memorial Day is important to me and others like me, and what I hope you remember to do this next weekend. And it's not to be sad or feel guilty about being happy.

One week from today in the United States, we'll all be doing something because of a holiday.

Monday, May 29. Memorial Day. Since 1971, it's been called an 'official' holiday here in the US. It's one of the few days that most companies close here in the land of consumers. So many of us will have the day to do with what we please. Perhaps you'll be sleeping in. You might have a delicious bbq planned. It's one of those days a lot of things are on Sale: Mattresses? I never get that correlation, but it's a big one. Gardens will be tended to, houses will be painted, and boats will be launched for perhaps the first day of the season. The more fashion sensitive and maybe older of us will bring out their white shoes. 

Yes, it's a day of revelry for many. But for some of us, it's a day when we will hear the song of 'Reveille.' A day we remember those we love who went off one day and didn't come back. Or perhaps they did, but they were never quite the same. 

I have one of those in my life. 

On Monday, I'll make the trek to Danville National Cemetery where I will join many others in remembering men and women like my son, SPC Seth A. Miller. That is where his body rests.  These people all answered a call. For some, it was the government knocking on their door and drafting them into service. It was either go, run, or be jailed. Some went because it was the best choice for them at that point in life. And then there were others, like Seth. Men and women who seemed to be born to be a part of the Military. They loved the way it made then a part of something bigger. Something that stirred that Patriotism that Twain talks about in my quote above. For all of these different kinds of soldiers, the aspect of War was probably not their hope and dream. It was a necessary evil and one that ultimately might have changed them forever. No matter if they died in service or long after.

Going to a cemetery to remember your child is never simple.

I'm painfully aware of many parents who carry the burden of visiting your child's grave. It's an act that cannot be explained by my simple attempts in words. But for me, there is something about going to visit Seth's grave in Danville that somehow removes a bit of the sting. You see, unlike countless other parents, I know without a doubt that my boy was doing exactly what he wanted to be doing the day he died. He was right were he wanted to be, and having the time of his life. He certainly had issues with the War, as most of those who serve do. But he wanted to be a part of ending it if at all possible. And that is the way Seth lived. He lived to end conflict, and usually by a show of his force. He lived a BIG life. And next Monday, while I am standing in the cemetery, I will remember not how and why Seth died, but rather, how and why HE LIVED. 

That's why I love that picture above vs. the many I have of him in uniform. Don't get me wrong, those also make me proud. But this one makes me happy. And that's why I want you to do something for me this next weekend.

Please, go and enjoy a beautiful day.

Sleep in. Eat an enormous calorie-laden breakfast followed by a feast around a BBQ with your favorite people, because no one could eat like my boy. If you enjoy beer, drink a large German one for my boy. Get in the pool, the lake, the ocean, the river - because he would be in one if he were here today. Go spend your hard earned money on something you need that you can get a helluva deal on because Lord knows Seth could spend money. And, if while you are doing these things, it comes to your mind, smile and be thankful for those who will be honored in Cemeteries across America today. And better yet, take a moment to thank a Veteran, and perhaps remember that they too carry the wounds of War and service. 

Let nothing stand in the way of your fun. 

Because Seth never did. 

And that fun and freedom don't come for free. 

Cheers. 

Unstuck Yourself: Grow something...

"A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them."

— Liberty Hyde Bailey

There's nothing like the thud one can feel as you drop back into life after vacation.

You try to prepare for a soft landing, but much like the jarring sensation you felt as the wheels touched down on the tarmac, you are reminded that you are human. And therefore, you must face the reality that you play, you pay...

So, after a view of my over 100 emails and load of catch up, I felt a little stuck.

Stuck like I was the first time a cousin tricked me into stepping in a deep puddle of wet cow manure. I could not seem to lift my feet to get going in any direction. Not just overwhelmed, but apathetic too. Sigh. How in the world does one get out of this situation?

How about taking off your shoes and stepping into some new ones?

I did it, and you can too, with a simple act of stepping out of those weighed down pumps. Leave them in the sludge and go find your favorite footwear for doing what you love most. What is it you think about doing when you daydream? What is on your feet while you're doing it? It might be hiking boots, or perhaps running shoes or flip flops. For me, it's my pair of gardening clogs. It's like the magic of Dorothy putting on those ruby slippers.  You're whisked away back to where you belong.

You get back to your roots, what inspires you and grows you.

And suddenly, there's no place like home.

Your head gets cleared and work gets done.

Go grow something.

Cheers. 

Don't miss the message in hysteria.

“If you’re hysterical, it’s historical.”

 ~Anonymous

I lost an earring last night.

It was a favorite, and I’d actually lost and found it before. This time, however, with the day I had experienced, I knew it was now gone forever. Instead of sighing and moving on, tears formed and my voice shook as I told my son and daughter in law. They both looked concerned. You see, they know me, and I don’t cry over stuff that quickly. Especially not stuff (or baseball). “I’m sorry, I’ve had a hard day,” I said as I went upstairs to recover.

I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Left the room and balled like my 2-year-old grandson.

I called my dear soulmate, Chris, to help me get perspective. He was naturally concerned. “I’ll buy you another damned pair...What is really going on?” he asked. It was at that moment that I realized there was a lot going on, and I wasn’t facing it.

It was not the here, and now, it was historical.

I don’t like losing things because it reminds me of some of the more profound things I’ve lost in my life. Things that can never be replaced. Things that can never be changed by my husband or any other loved one. Things that unlike my earring, I will never forget. I grow hysterical with fear.

Perhaps it was time to get more real about my historical reaction to loss.

I’ve always assumed my response to loss is greater than the general population’s, but over time, I know that there are different types of loss. Some are more subtle than others but just as heavy. We have a tendency to gravitate toward those who share our particular type of loss, but perhaps we should stop separating and categorizing our differences.

Instead, we can congeal around our understanding.

And like my husband’s straightforward words to me, find out what’s really going on.

Under the hysteria.

Cheers.

Less doesn't always mean nothing.

"Get clear on what matters by getting rid of everything that doesn't." 

~Unknown

What stops you from doing that thing?

You know, THAT thing. That dream that nags you. That project that you feel is perfect for ____ and needs to happen. That start on the goal you know is important to your life satisfaction. Is it too many responsibilities, or not enough resources or maybe it just makes your head spin to consider it? Put whatever came to your mind in a physical form. What does it look like?

I bet it resembles a large pile of something...

A large structure, and it seems immovable. Oh boy, the phone calls, and research and time... And time... And what if you do all of that, and you find out it's really more like a Mountain than a pile? It is in this shadow of the pile that you find a murky vision of what you see. Murky isn't what you need my friend. You need clarity. A clear view of what it is that is preventing you from doing it. And then taking it apart, or just tossing it aside. Because there are more unneeded things in that pile than there are significant ones. How do I know? I've been there, and I've sat in the middle of those piles.

You think you don't you have enough to accomplish it.

But having less of whatever it is you need to get started and get clarity does not equal having nothing. Stop saying you don't have what is necessary. Just stop doing all the things that you don't need to do in order to get 'it' done,  The truth is you have SOMETHING, even if it's only the idea and the will. What can you do with your little old something? Use it to find the other little bits of things you need to do more? 

You don't need more to do more.

You need to do more with less.

Accept the less, because it's far from nothing.

Cheers.

Perspective REALLY is EVERYTHING

It's all about how

: ):

You look at things...

I haven't always been a sunny personality.

I remember a friend introducing me to Norman Vincent Peale when I was pretty young. I thought the whole premise of the Power of Positive Thinking as an excellent way to make a buck on the adage, "Fake it until you make it."  It also seemed pretty easy to me for these people to walk around with a happy attitude when they were already doing well. But I was carrying a significant amount of responsibility for one so young, and there didn't seem to be anyone around to help me with my burdens. I spent many days feeling trapped and overwhelmed, wondering if I would ever find a way to achieve some of the dreams that were inside my head and heart. 

Then one day, I hit a glass door full force.

I came barreling around a corner, and I could see my friends sitting in the room ahead. It never occurred to me that there was a door there. I didn't see my reflection even until it was too late. My face smashed against the glass, and I fell backward onto the concrete. My friends, in shock at first, came running out and then they were laughing. I lay there on the ground, dazed and confused, and realized what had just happened. Now I began to laugh too, as I imagined what they must have seen from their perspective. It was pretty hilarious.

I didn't stop to drink in any consoling or pity, I just went in and got an ice pack.

You see, the cut on my swollen nose would heal, but I would carry the lesson from that injury for a very long time. Perspective was everything in this event. 

1) I didn't see the door because I was looking past it. How many times do we make mistakes, hit a wall because we don't slow down and consider what might be ahead?

2) My friends could see my impending collision, but they were powerless to stop it. We can't always prevent people from making mistakes. We can only be there to help pick up the pieces if necessary.

3) Instead of focusing on the painful aftermath, I joined my friends in laughter. If possible, bring laughter to others when you see them make a mistake or hit a wall. Laughter will help them change their perspective and see the good parts of what just happened versus staying stuck on the ground.

There's a duality in most things that surround us.

The physical world and what we see and feel is not all there is. There is a world of spirit and purpose underneath it, and no matter what it looks like on the outside, there is much more going on beneath the circumstances we perceive as negative. 

If I can remember that and tap into the deeper meaning behind what I am experiencing, then I can accept what I am going through with greater ease. Even hitting a glass door.

You have a choice in every perspective you take. 

Choose wisely. It really is everything.

Cheers.