Monday, February 29, 2016


Today Monte had the opportunity to listen to the Dalai Lama speak. What a great experience to be in the presence of such a compassionate and spiritual being. The topic sounded interesting, as Monte described it, but I was more interested in how the Dalai Lama practiced his compassion and love for humankind. It was evident in the simplest gestures and his interpersonal interactions with the others in the chapel.

Being in the presence of someone who is capable of emanating such a deep love, in that kind of way, sounds very intimidating.

We are all on this journey, traveling a path which is exclusively our own... it's uncomfortable for me to think about this one precious life and be fully open and aware of God's purpose for me. What that means for how I spend each moment of each day, and what that means for my little people is a heavy thing.

The weight of that importance is stifling.

Parents always wonder if we're getting it right... maybe more accurately, we're convinced we are getting everything all wrong. I am anyway. I spend so much time second-guessing myself and wondering how I can be a better mom... or just better in general, for my little people.

In my head, I have things all neat and tidy... planned and considered, logical and age-appropriate, calm and deliberate, loving and unwavering. Outside of my head, real life doesn't happen that way. I'm often emotional and reactive, loud and inconsistent. Always loving... that love may not be readily at the surface, but it's always there. Always.

Indeed, we are all on this journey, but the path is not clear. For those, like the Dalai Lama, who know their divine purpose, I'm awe-struck. Maybe life is simpler for them... they KNOW their purpose. They live that purpose each and every day.

For me, well I don't fully understand mine... but I'm happy to have a partner to walk imperfectly next to... sometimes to follow... sometimes to lead... but always together. For the little people and for ourselves.

Together, we'll all live our lives imperfectly, trying to be fully open and aware. And if nothing else, simply thankful that we are able to spend this one sweet life together, whether or not we understand why. Maybe our purpose isn't to KNOW... but simply to love.

Sunday, February 28, 2016


They were on an adventure. They're usually having an adventure, but this time, there was a treasure map. They set out on a blanket boat, with tinker toy paddles and Teddy as first mate, in search of the great treasure box.

Their adventure took them past the giant terrifying fish and around another scary looking creature, into the boulder canyon. Judging by the delicate way they were holding their find, it was filled with precious items.

This went on for an hour and a half. I'm not sure how it started, but it looks like Benett engineered the scenario. Ellie always seems happy to play along. She sprinkles in details that are uniquely her own, like the pirate picnic they enjoyed, complete with tea and donuts.

I love the way they play. I'm always amazed at what they come up with and mesmerized by the details... I am thankful for lazy days with no where to be and nothing to do, but search for treasure. They found theirs on a map, me on the other hand, I find mine in my living room, floating along on a blanket boat, without a care in the world.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016


After we all made it safely home, I could start to enjoy our snow day together. Home feels a little bit cozier, a little more like a refuge, when the wind is blowing and the snow is swirling. On these days, it's perfectly acceptable to snuggle under the biggest and coziest blanket in the house.

But before any of that, my first thought is always about this little tree.

I don my warm winter gear and trudge through the drifts to take a picture of this little tree every winter. There is something about it that calls to me.

It stands small and straight to the west of our house. Someday it will be part of a wind break. Someday the little people will play in its summer shade or the drift of snow that always forms at its feet in the winter. Someday it will be home for a family of birds.

It's impervious to the gusty wind. I love how this little tree stands steady and strong in any weather; calm in every storm. Someday it will be a bigger version of itself... that's true... but even though small, it's already doing the job it was planted to do. It's slowing the wind, collecting the snow and in the summer a favorite nesting spot for at least one Robin.

It's job isn't to be beautiful, though it is. This little tree is a reminder that though small, it's purposeful now. There is no need for someday; today is as good as any. Though it will grow, I like it just fine the way it is right now.

There is something about this little tree that reminds me that today is yesterday's, someday. Why a tree has the ability to remind me of this important lesson, so clearly... I'll never know.

Reminded that someday, I won't have all of my little people gathered around me on a snowy day eager for my company, I'm trying to sit a little longer under that big cozy blanket. There will be some other day for obligations. For now, we are happily right where we should be.