It’s a Beautiful Day.

Every morning when my three-year-old wakes up, she announces the fact with the same phrase, “It’s a beautiful day!” I’m not really sure where or when she picked up this habit, but I’m glad she did. It doesn’t really matter if the bright southern sun is streaming through the cracks in her bedroom blinds, or if the fierce Florida rain is pelting at her window. For my daughter, the phrase, “It’s a beautiful day” is a celebration of life. The world has once again pulled away its quilt of darkness, and revealed a new opportunity for learning and adventure.

I can’t help but wonder what the world would be like if more people greeted each day with the same conscious attitude. In our overworked, minimally rested society, it’s easy to see why morning commuters often greet us with scowls instead of smiles. Even I have mornings when I hit my snooze button, wallowing in the dregs of insufficient sleep, but when my daughter’s morning phrase drifts through my murky consciousness, I have to admit, I hear the chorus of that famous U2 song and I laugh at myself. It is a beautiful day.

Finding Your Calling in Unexpected Places

In my March 3rd posting, I addressed this blogs “conspicuous silence.” After my husband’s recent stay in the ICU, our sense of financial security was a little shaky. In order to relieve the stress, I decided to find a steady job.

Of course, after reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle, I felt it was important to find more than a job. True, I needed a steady income, but I also wanted to be of service. I began applying for part-time faculty positions at local colleges. I’ve always enjoyed helping individuals achieve their life goals and, as an English instructor, I felt like I could contribute in my own small way.

I was hired by a small college that shares the same optimistic vision I have – anyone can become anything, if they only believe in themselves. Although teaching freshman composition within a community that primarily speaks English as a second language was very challenging, it was also very rewarding.

Much of my free time was consumed with creating exams, grading papers, and trying to find ways to make English grammar fun and entertaining. The hard work paid off though, as I watched student confidence grow with each achievement. In turn, they encouraged me with heartfelt letters of appreciation. It was a very fulfilling experience.

Then, I was offered a position I had not applied for. While teaching, I had assisted Student Services with their Spring Graduation. I spent at least 16 hours a week in the Student Services office, and really enjoyed working with the staff. I was impressed by their dedication and their attempt to deliver an astounding graduation despite the fact that they had been without a Director for months.

“Do you think you would like working there full-time?” asked the VP of finance. She was offering me the Director’s position. I knew the combination of my corporate background, my teaching experience, and my self-directed freelance work provided a unique set of skills that could benefit the office, but I was still reluctant.

“I don’t know. I would really hate to give up teaching.” It was my calling, after all—Wasn’t it?

Over the next few weeks, I questioned my motives. I remembered something Eckhart Tolle had said, “Many people ask themselves what they want in life. What they should ask is what does life want from me.” So, I asked the question what does life want from me. I began to realize that my insistence on teaching was based on my own ego. It was not how I could be of greatest service, but was based on my belief that teaching was one of the noblest of professions. It was also based on the positive feedback I received from my students, feedback that nurtured my own pride and sense of self-worth.

As I began to examine my own motives and had the courage to let those misconceptions go, the door opened once again. “The position of Director is still available,” the VP of finance reminded me. This time, I took the job—but it’s more than a job. Now I serve the entire student body not just the handful of students that come through my classroom.

Sometimes you have to let go of what you think you should do, in order to see the thing you could do, to find your calling in unexpected places.

Put Books in Their Basket

I have a three-year-old daughter, and like any three-year-old, she loves the holidays. We decorate, watch holiday themed videos, and participate in holiday themed parties at her daycare and her favorite local attractions. However, as a mother who is concerned about creating healthy eating habits, the holidays can pose a problem. Many of them encourage the consumption of dubious amounts of candy.

Oh, I’m not one of those moms that completely bans sugar from the house, but I do restrict it quite a bit. I also look for ways to limit the amount of candy received during these highly commercialized holidays. We all remember that bag of Halloween candy that lasted until Christmas. By over indulging during the holidays, that stocking full of Christmas candy might last until Valentine’s Day, and that Valentine’s Day candy could last until Easter. It’s no wonder our country struggles with obesity, diabetes, and hyperactive children. We might as well give them a sugar IV and send them out into the world.

The public schools are finally catching on to the detrimental effects of sugar and systematically eradicating it from the lunchroom and vending machines. As an educator myself, I can tell you we have enough challenges without the sugar induced buzz distracting our students (not to mention the post sugar comatose).

As another holiday draws upon us, look for some alternatives for that Easter basket. Perhaps forgoing the candy all together is a bit drastic. Who wants to receive a fruit basket when everyone else is getting Cadbury eggs? We can cut back the amount of candy they receive, however, by adding small, inexpensive gifts that encourage learning and physical activity.

Here’s a suggestion I’m partial to . . . BOOKS! If you encourage your child to read while they’ re young, you will help them develop a life-long habit. In an effort to encourage children’s literacy, I will feature a number of children’s book reviews this week. With the plethora of options out there this spring, I will be posting more than once a day, so check back often, or subscribe to the Modern Matriarch feed to catch them all.

Happy Holidays and good reading!

Oh Shut Up Already!

Have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone but found it impossible because they just wouldn’t listen? Every time you opened your mouth to say something, they just had to interrupt. It’s impossible to talk and listen at the same time.

You may have noticed that this blog has been conspicuously silent lately. That’s because I am listening. I believe in the vastness of universal potential and the depth of life’s lessons and sometimes you just need to shut up to hear them.

I am adding links to three programs I am currently participating in—all courtesy of Oprah.com. I will refrain from commenting on them for now because I feel as though I would be interrupting the lesson I need to learn. I simply want to share the blessing of inspiration and fellowship they have provided.

A New Earth Oprah’s current Book Club selection addresses humanity’s ego-based thinking. Oprah and author Eckhart Tolle are committed to discussing the book chapter by chapter in a 90 minute live web event every Monday night starting March 3rd. (Discussions archived)

A Course in Miracles Marianne Williamson takes you through the complete Course in Miracles. Everyday in 2008, Williamson covers one of the 365 lessons. Although this program began in January, the complete program is archived and you can go at your own pace.

Oprah and Bob’s Million Viewer Challenge The body is the temple of the spirit. Learn how to make better health and fitness choices, because you deserve to live your best life.

Traffic Jam on the Expressway of Life

My husband gave a weak smile as I entered his hospital room. I bent down to kiss him, careful not to disturb the tubes inserted in his arms and neck. It was week two in the intensive care unit. The exhaustion was evident on my face as he asked, “how are you holding up?”

“Ok,” I admitted. I’m not very good at glossing over the truth. Like most modern couples, we’re a tag team of goals and accomplishments. We may have common objectives in life, but we do have separate bank accounts, manage different household expenses, and juggle different responsibilities. When my husband was admitted to the hospital with a rare blood disorder, my objective was to keep life running smoothly so he could return to his life without the overwhelming burden of overdue bills and neglected obligations. “It’s hard keeping up with everything on my own.” I admitted with a smile as weak as my husband’s.

“Our life is like the Palmetto,” he said with an ironic laugh. The Palmetto is an express here in Miami, notorious for its rush hour traffic–one accident and cars back up for miles. He was right. Our life was like that–so well orchestrated that one misstep throws everything off kilter. I think a lot of people can relate.

When I was an undergraduate, most of my classes were early in the morning. I often found myself driving against the rush hour traffic crawling its way down town. I pitied the line of impatient, packed cars anxious to get to their dull desk jobs. Yet, here I am, a member of middle class suburbia, playing my part in the ebb and flow of the American economy.

Of course, I’ve been knocked off course before, my life upended by sudden tragedies that made me revaluate what is really important. Thanks to my husband’s financial brilliance, our family would weather this crisis unscathed. For my husband though, it was a bit of an epiphany. This is not the first time he had to be hospitalized for this condition. In fact this is his seventh episode. It was the first time he had a home, a family, and a career to worry about–a life that he created for himself, a life he enjoyed, he was proud of, and anxious to get back to. He discovered the importance of appreciating now, and simplifying for tomorrow.

Oh, I still do my best to avoid that mind numbing, rush hour crawl, finding alternative ways to work, live and learn, but on those rare occasions we do find ourselves stuck in traffic, we turn up the radio and sing.

Is Your Spouse Really Getting on Your Nerves?

Will you become more annoyed with your spouse over time? Comedians have been cracking jokes about their irritating spouses for years, but according to the LiveScience story featured on Yahoo’s front page, there’s actually ‘proof’ that you will become more irritated with your significant other over the course of your life time.

The article gives a number of reasons why this happens, but they leave out one very important factor—the internal narrative. The internal narrative is our perception of the world around us, how we rationalize the interconnecting relationship between events and emotions that we experience everyday.

Let’s imagine, for a moment, a woman who is punctual, organized, and maintains a consistent routine. One day, at the coffee shop, a handsome, confident man introduces himself.

Let’s also imagine that they meet in the middle of winter and the weather is cold and dreary and that the woman is a little frustrated with her stressful job. One evening, during dinner, the man smiles broadly and says, “Why don’t we go to the Bahamas? A little three day vacation; relax on the warm beach, order breakfast in bed—just you and me.”

The woman admits this sounds nice, but when? “Tomorrow,” he suggests. She’s shocked. There’s so much for her to do at work and so many travel arrangements to make. He convinces her he can handle the arrangements and that she will be much more productive when she returns, relaxed and refreshed. She throws caution to the wind and agrees.

Excited about her vacation and the prospect of spending time with such a spontaneous man, she calls her girlfriends while packing. They express their envy and admiration of the handsome suitor, and the woman feels lucky to have found such a great guy.

The woman has created an internal narration in which the man plays the hero of a romantic adventure. This idea is reinforced by her retelling of this narration to others who agree (based on the details she has provided).

When we fall in love, we abstract the good from the beginning knowledge about the other person. We focus on positive traits. We see similarities and compatibilities with our partners—or if we notice differences, we view them as complimentary. As the relationship matures, our sense of the other adjusts to the reality: along with the characteristics we admire, our beloved (alas) has some flaws. We are forced to acknowledge that there are no angels—only fallen angels. (Vaughan 2

Of course, later in the relationship, we are often annoyed by the very traits we once found so charming. After years of marriage, the handsome man’s “spontaneous” nature may be reinterpreted as immaturity or irresponsibility. Why?—because we begin to rewrite the internal narration. Surely the handsome man has always left the toilet seat up, but as time goes on it becomes a symbol of disrespect or inconsideration.

In a healthy relationship, both individuals continually realign these internal narrations through open communication. Without this process the relationship can slip into a downward spiral:

As relationships become troubled, our focus shifts again, this time to negative qualities. We redefine our partners and relate to them in terms of their objectionable traits. We see more differences than similarities—or regard the differences now as troublesome and unattractive. Out of our increasing unhappiness, we start to dwell on and even exaggerate our partner’s flaws. (Vaughan 2

Left unchecked, these negative definitions can compound until the relationship is viewed as unsaveable and we become the initiators of our own ‘uncoupling.’

Not only do initiators redefine their partners in negative terms, but they also reconstruct the history of the relationship, reordering their reminiscences into negative chronology of events. The good times are forgotten or explained away . . . [while] The bad times form the salient memories. (Vaughan 29)

Yes, the LiveScience article illustrates that most individuals will find their spouse more annoying over time, but we have to admit it is a reality we create for ourselves.

Work Cited

Vaughan, Diane. Uncoupling: Turningpoints in Intimate Relationships. Vintage Books: New York. 1990

Connecting with Patry Francis

My three-year-old daughter smells like soap and toothpaste as she crawls into bed next to me. It’s ten o’clock at night and I’ve just returned from the Intensive Care Unit where I kissed my husband goodnight on the forehead. My daughter knows daddy is sick, but in her mind he’s suffering from the flu.

It’s not the flu, though. It’s a rare but reoccurring blood disease. So rare, in fact, it has yet to be diagnosed.

In 1982, his father walked for miles—from an apartment in Havanah to the church of Saint Lazaro in the Cuban countryside. He went there to pray for his two-year-old son, who was dying from a mysterious blood disease. He would make the trip again two years later, when my husband was only four, and again at six. During each episode, doctors would begin a barrage of tests, ruling out one disease after another. Every member of the extended family went in for genetic testing. Still, his condition remained unexplained

This is his sixth stay in the hospital. His symptoms are not as severe as when he was a child, but his condition is still critical. But through it all, we are grateful. This rare blood condition is very similar to so many others, other diseases that are fatal, diseases that create lethal toxins and destroy organs. Yet, my husband continues to recover.

He also hopes doctors will be able to discover something new during this episode, something that may help others with the same condition. Perhaps they can learn something about how his body manages to self correct, why this disease goes into complete remission. Perhaps it could lead to a cure for similar diseases that are fatal.

Facing mortality can be frightening, but it can also be liberating. It reminds you what’s truly important. You also learn the importance of community, as you are forced to rely on others for help. It is in this spirit that I send out my prayers to a fellow writer Patry Francis. Patry Francis is the author of Liar’s Diary, a colorful murder mystery that has filled in the drab hours of waiting in uncomfortable hospital chairs. Patry is facing her own medical ordeal right now, diagnosed with an aggressive cancer just a few weeks before Liar’s Diary was due for its paper back release. In her blog Simply Wait, there is a glimmer of the awe and insight that mortal awareness brings. I hope her recovery is successful, and in the spirit of community I extend my support, for her health and her creative vision.

I will continue to carry my copy of Liar’s Diary with me, and as soon as I finish it, I will post again with a detailed review. But now I must get some sleep, an hour has slipped by since I started this post and my snuggly bundle of soap scented love has just fallen into a deep sleep.

Why Resolutions Fail Year After Year

Today we stand in a doorway. Today is not only the first day of January, a month named after the Roman god Janus, it’s the first day of a new year.

Janus was the god of gates and doorways, beginnings and endings. With two faces, one facing forward and one facing behind, Janus can see both the past and the future, and is often used as a symbol of transition.

What better time for resolutions. But if a new year’s resolution is a commitment to a lifestyle change, why do so many people make the same resolutions year after year? Because—what many call resolutions are often little more than goals. With a little persistence, a goal can be achieved. Achieving a goal requires little more than identifying an outcome and creating small actionable steps.

Even if you happen to achieve the goals you set for yourself, how likely are you to maintain the outcome. Whether your goal is to loose weight, stick to a budget, or get better organized, it’s not really a resolution unless it’s accompanied by a true paradigm shift.

A paradigm is a set of beliefs and values. A paradigm shift is that “ah-ha” moment when your beliefs and values are instantly altered. An “ah-ha moment doesn’t just happen, though. It is up to you to initiate that experience. You must expose yourself to new and diverse ideas. You must be willing to let go of old ways of being and embrace new ones.

A resolution is not a goal, but a transition. Like the two faced Janus, a true resolution is an apex, where the end of one thing meets the beginning of another. With a true resolution we step over a threshold from the past into the future.

Lessons Learned from a Christmas Present

 Did you find December a little overwhelming? I sure did. Sometimes it’s tough to prioritize, especially when life hands you so many fabulous opportunities. No really it does. I know some of my readers may be skeptical of this fact, but it’s true. Life is ready to hand you countless blessings; it’s just a matter of staying open to the possibilities.

This lesson hit home Christmas Day when my three-year-old daughter was playing one of her new games. She loves butterflies, so I bought her the Milton Bradley Elefun game. Elefun is a small motorized elephant that blows air up a four foot trunk. The game comes with four butterfly nets and little paper butterflies. When you place the butterflies in the elephant and turn it on, the butterflies swirl up the trunk and burst into the air, drifting down like little dandelion seeds. The object, of course, is to catch as many as you can with your butterfly net.

My daughter loved the game, jumping, giggling and refilling the elephant over and over again. But later in the evening, when she was fatigued with the toy mania and sugar overload of the holiday, the frustration set in. What should have been a joyous round of Elefun turned into an episode of moaning and stomping. Butterflies fell just beyond her reach, and a look of desperation clouded her face as her eyes followed them to the floor.

“Look up, Gaby! Look up!” I yelled. Butterflies sailed out of the trunk into the air, “Catch ‘em! Catch ‘em!” but she was too busy looking at her empty net.

When the last butterfly fluttered to the ground I gave her a hug and said, “If you’re looking at the ones you’ve missed, you wont see the ones coming.” We filled up the Elephant and she tried again. This time she raised her net, and swung it high in the air. At the end of the game, little paper butterflies once again littered the floor. As she proudly held up her net, though, we could see that she caught some, too.

Filling the elephant back up, we counted the butterflies in her net. “Six!” She finished triumphantly. “Yes,” I smiled, “Good job.”

Those little paper butterflies are just like opportunities. If you focus on the ones you’ve missed, moaning with self-pity, you won’t see the new opportunities coming along. Life is so generous; sometimes it’s impossible to catch them all, but if you let go of the past and look to the future, your life will be full of the ones you do catch.

Are You an Active or Passive Reader?

I attended a variety of churches when I was a child: Catholic, Protestant, Nazarene, Baptist . . . and each had its own view on ‘the Word,’ ‘the Book,’ ‘the Gospel,’ the collection known as The Bible. Of all the experiences I had in those congregations, there is one that stands out in my mind, and it’s probably not one you would imagine.

One day, the esteemed leader of one of these denominations took a look at my crisp clean bible and asked, “Do you read this?”

“Yes, of course,” I responded.

“Then why does it look so new. Don’t be afraid to use it, really use it. Highlight passages that speak to you. Scribble notes in the margin. Bookmark pages.”

It was a revolutionary idea to a young girl. God was in the authorship, not in the binding. I was instructed to root around for meaning, for knowledge. The book I held in my hand was merely paper and ink. It was the philosophy, the ideas expressed on those pages that held true power.

To this day, I still highlight, scribble and bookmark everything I read. Nothing is sacred. As I read the essay “Coming to Writing” by Helen Cixous, I find a kindred spirit. For her, reading was an act of creation. The creation of meaning:

“Reading: writing the ten thousand pages of every page, bringing them to light. Grow and multiply and the page will multiply. But that means reading: making love to the text.”

Making love to a text is an interesting analogy. It begs the question “was it good for you?” If not, were you really into it or did you just lay back and wait for something astounding to happen. Are you being an active reader, or a passive reader? Are you afraid to defile the printed page or do you interact with it like the body of an intimate lover?

One of the keys to critical thinking is recognizing that letters clumped together in words, and words strung together on a page are still nothing more than ink and paper. We are the ones giving those words meaning. What we bring to a text will influence what we get out of it. As we grow, so does meaning—highlight, scribble, and bookmark. Nothing is sacred.