One Little Word…2026

It’s funny, we start the year with good intentions.  Every. Single. Year.  We do this.  It’s kind of a vicious cycle when you get right down to it.

My OLW (One Little Word) changed as 2015 gave way to 2016.  My new word… commitment. It occurs to me that I have a problem with commitment.  Not everywhere, just some spaces.  I easily commit to #ThePromDressProject, to The Friends of Aurora Central — our alumni association.  I have zero issue in my ability to commit to the young adults at Aurora Central High School — no issues there and no issues with work commitment.  So it appears that I have it all wrapped up. 

Until I sat yesterday and enjoyed the best lunch ever with my friend Danielle.  She’s embarking on her journey into the blogosphere.  The general observation being that we use blogs, Facebook, Twitter… the list goes on to represent that better side of ourselves.  The side that is sexy, beautiful, funny, and charming.  Engaged in our lives — engaged in service.  And then it hits. #UnMoTiVaTeD.  That’s Danielle’s blog theme.  Looking at the things that we know we should do, the things we profess to wanting to do and then why we choose to go have lunch and a glass of wine instead.  It’s curious.  The funny little connection that makes darn well sure we know what we should be up to and then for some reason… we find ourselves just not up to it.

So how does ANY of this relate to my OLW? I chose commitment because while I am a champion at commitment in some places there are others where, frankly, I am sucking wind.

Commitment to myself.  I’ve been letting a three year old injury be my “justification” for why I am not being more active, not in better shape and not participating in something that I absolutely enjoy.  Running.  Blogging.  Here we are half way through January and just today I am sitting down with my word and getting acquainted. I’ll start here and own it.

I am looking forward to helping my gal pal and her #UnMoTiVaTeD thoughts and sharing them with the universe because they’re true, they’re real and they’re keeping us from being our better selves.  Commitment wins.  #alwaysatrojan

Buyer beware.  Most of us (if not all) have heard this colloquialism… Beware of what you buy, perhaps there are unintended consequences of it.  I am adding a new one today.  Writer Beware…

I love having my blog — truly I do.  I’ve found it a great way to get thoughts together, share things in my life that are amazing, maybe some that are not so amazing.  First, because I think it helps me sort through whatever grind I am in at a given moment.  But maybe also because perhaps, if I share something in my life, there is a possibility that it may bring benefit to someone else.  At least that’s the hope.

That said, blogging does not come without consequence, and — writer’s warning here, you have to be able to accept and handle the consequences there of.

See when you blog, and put “your stuff” out there for consumption, and it’s read, people react to it.  Sometimes… it’s fantastic and you know you are doing the right things for all of the right reasons.  But…. Then sometimes it doesn’t.  That’s a whole new thing. Maybe someone has an adverse reaction to what you’ve written and think you’re a complete MO-RON.  And then there are the times that someone will read your blog and read so much more into it than what was intended.  Writer, please beware.  I’m pretty certain that I am not the first, nor will I be the last person that this has ever happened to. And… for a moment, and maybe I am still in that moment I’ve decided that blogging, while I love it, isn’t the right platform for my thoughts or feelings.

Of course that begs the question of what to do with them?  I haven’t quite figured that out yet.  I haven’t blogged since August 2, 2015.  Truth, some of the reason is that life is just busy and finding a quiet moment to just be with my thoughts doesn’t come easily.  And the bigger truth, the one  I don’t really care all that much to admit, is that someone, anyone out there really can make a judgement on me, or my situations, for the good or for the bad, and that there isn’t a thing that I can do about it.

So I suppose that I’ll figure it out. Writer…please beware.

I haven’t written in what seems like weeks.  Maybe it has been. In my last post I was broken.  I thought I was beyond anything that could fix the pains that have been weaving their way in my life.

And here’s the thing… so maybe I’m not that broken.

Let me tell you why I thought I was and why I realize maybe I’m not.

Daniel (that’s my kid) turned 18 last November.  For some time before that I could see where his life was changing, was different.  Sometimes, for the better, but sometimes (and it often feels like most of the time) the changes have been for the not so better.  He’s decided that it’s time to be his own person, his own adult and live his life on his terms. It hurts.

Two weeks ago, he came to the house and got his things. His bed. His clothes. His this and his that.  I don’t know when I’ve felt pain more real.  The only pain I can even come close to in my life was a break up with the person I thought was my It.  And so like then, I’ve been nursing a broken heart.  Praying and then praying more that Daniel would have some epiphany and come home, that life would return to the time before this whole “I’m an adult” thing became a part of his daily vernacular.  Well, it hasn’t and it won’t.  Maybe he’ll figure it out, maybe he’ll come back home until he’s in place and a space where he’s more ready for what the world is going to throw his way.  Maybe he won’t.

But in all of this, all of the pain and the heartache and the worry, and there’s so much worry… I am still standing.  I didn’t disappear into some abyss.  I thought I might.  I thought I might never be happy again. EVER.

And then the box came to my office.

Mrs. Bennett, was my US History teacher my junior year of high school at Aurora Central.  Amazing woman.  She’s one of the many teachers I’ve been blessed with that helped me and countless students realize there is so much value in learning.  She had reached out and offered to send some things she had found that might be helpful to the Alumni Association and to #ThePromDressProject.  Today, I opened the box.  When the box was opened…I found my happy in it.  Who knew that’s where it had been hidden?  In this box are dresses upon dresses and bags upon bags, each carefully packed with beautiful things to be shared with our young ladies for upcoming homecoming and prom.  And just like that, I found my happy.

My heart, while it still hurts for the “loss” of Daniel striking out on his own is somehow at the same time filled with such joy in the ability to continue being a blessing to the young ladies of Aurora Central and other ladies anywhere and everywhere.

So the point, if there has to be one, is happy and heartbreak can exist in the same time and space.