Most of us don't know who we truly are and we often have trouble separating our true self from the facade we show to the world.
Of course many of us don't acknowledge the fact that we wear a mask on a daily basis. We just like to assume that we are "keeping it real"—it's everyone else that's being phony.
Well, here's a perfect test for those of you who subscribe to the latter point: think of a topic that interests you. Ponder the ins and outs of that topic for as long you deem necessary to espouse an intelligent opinion. Once you've done so, ask yourself what part of that opinion is based on your own knowledge, and what part of it is based on the knowledge you've absorbed from the sources around you.
If you find that most of what you believe is built on an article you read, a talk show you heard, or a speaker you've listened to, then you aren't as "real" as you might think.
The natural response to this is to say we are all going to be guilty of doing that. After all, most of us are just a conglomeration of our experiences and social interactions. It's impossible not to be influenced or shaped by external factors in our environment.
That's true, and in no way do I expect that this world will house a human being who hasn't been touched or influenced by something he/she read, did, or experienced. That's the way we become who we are—through experiencing this life as an observer.
However, you have to begin investigating and researching matters on your own, as well. You have to start realizing that regurgitating the philosophies of another doesn't make you sound intelligent, it makes you look misinformed.
In as much as you are an observer, you should also be an experimenter. Your belief system should be a result of what YOU know for sure and not what you've heard from the majority. Walk your own path, formulate your own opinions, and become your own person.
There are enough people out there "keeping it real", strive to be a part of the group that's just being real.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Are You "Set" In Your Ways?
People describe individuals who aren't open to change, or new ideas, as "set" in their way—don't bother engaging those types of people in a conversation meant to evoke an intelligent, productive, debate—you're wasting your time.
As easy a write-off as that explanation might be, I don't buy it. Despite what you have been told, no one is set in their way. Some people are simply more resistant to change than others because they fear the unknown and we are all, to some degree, guilty of that.
Over a period of time we become comfortable with the knowledge we have acquired and we don't look kindly upon people who challenge us on those notions. Our knowledge, derived from years of personal experience, forms the foundation of our paradigms and when those paradigms are challenged, the natural instinct for many of us is to fight back and reject the new. And, we extend those rejections not because we are unwilling to accept that they might be right, but rather because we cannot deal with the possibility that we might be wrong.
It's as much about ego as it is about principle.
However, none of us can become better versions of ourselves if we choose to remain ignorant to the changes and the people that dwell among us. You must be willing to accept the possibility that what you know isn't absolute, and you must remain open to more than just what you've come to know if you ever expect to learn anything else of substance.
Understand this: As a reasonable, intelligent, and sentient human being, you always have the capacity to evolve—both in mind and in body—that journey is endless. To disrespect that journey, by never giving yourself the chance to accept or understand the unfamiliar, is to lay waste to all the possibilities that life has to offer.
Do not allow yourself to be stifled by a stubborn resistance to change. Trust that you are worth more than that, and allow yourself to become better than even you could have ever imagined.
As easy a write-off as that explanation might be, I don't buy it. Despite what you have been told, no one is set in their way. Some people are simply more resistant to change than others because they fear the unknown and we are all, to some degree, guilty of that.
Over a period of time we become comfortable with the knowledge we have acquired and we don't look kindly upon people who challenge us on those notions. Our knowledge, derived from years of personal experience, forms the foundation of our paradigms and when those paradigms are challenged, the natural instinct for many of us is to fight back and reject the new. And, we extend those rejections not because we are unwilling to accept that they might be right, but rather because we cannot deal with the possibility that we might be wrong.
It's as much about ego as it is about principle.
However, none of us can become better versions of ourselves if we choose to remain ignorant to the changes and the people that dwell among us. You must be willing to accept the possibility that what you know isn't absolute, and you must remain open to more than just what you've come to know if you ever expect to learn anything else of substance.
Understand this: As a reasonable, intelligent, and sentient human being, you always have the capacity to evolve—both in mind and in body—that journey is endless. To disrespect that journey, by never giving yourself the chance to accept or understand the unfamiliar, is to lay waste to all the possibilities that life has to offer.
Do not allow yourself to be stifled by a stubborn resistance to change. Trust that you are worth more than that, and allow yourself to become better than even you could have ever imagined.
Jesus Hates Obama?...Really?
I recently read a lot of commentary sparked by a proposed Super Bowl commercial, sponsored by the website jesushatesobama.com. If you haven't seen it yet, here it is:
Now, no matter what your religious leanings might be, I am pretty sure that Jesus doesn't hate any one. Jesus is love as far as most christians are concerned—despite the tendency of most christians to act otherwise.
This ad probably wasn't meant to appear anywhere near national television, but it did manage to get gain enough interest to bring a ton of traffic to the site mentioned above which, might I add, DOES actually hate Obama.
In my opinion, there are more intelligent ways to exercise one's freedom of speech without bringing the Lord or His Beloved Son's name into the mix. But, in this day and age, I can hardly say I am surprised.
Now, no matter what your religious leanings might be, I am pretty sure that Jesus doesn't hate any one. Jesus is love as far as most christians are concerned—despite the tendency of most christians to act otherwise.
This ad probably wasn't meant to appear anywhere near national television, but it did manage to get gain enough interest to bring a ton of traffic to the site mentioned above which, might I add, DOES actually hate Obama.
In my opinion, there are more intelligent ways to exercise one's freedom of speech without bringing the Lord or His Beloved Son's name into the mix. But, in this day and age, I can hardly say I am surprised.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
You Can't Be Everything to Everybody—Stop Trying
I obsess a lot—what can I say?
My mind is never quiet long enough to actually enjoy the moment I'm in because it's always moving ahead to the next moment—trust me when I tell you it's the most frustrating aspect of being me. It's also hard to control without some serious effort on my part.
I've relied on both yoga and meditation in many situations, but my spiritual beliefs have guided me the rest of the way and, together, all have allowed me to be more aware of my connection to what's actually happening in front of me—keeping me grounded and focused on what's really important.
However, in being such an emotion-hopper (yes, that's a made-up word), I have learned a very valuable lesson about the tendency of individuals to be continually absent within the present. You see, as it turns out, this issue isn't unique to me. We all do it.
We all find ourselves scattered into a million different thoughts, trying to figure out how to do it all. It's born of an inner desire to be both perfect and successful—we're afraid to screw up.
So, we overload, over commit, and overdo everything we can to make us feel that we are being productive and useful to those around us. This can especially be the case with mothers.
We put on our capes and strap on that 'S' and say "Superwoman. Yes, I am".
The only problem with that is, in reality, being a superwoman—or man for that matter—isn't a job meant to be done on a daily basis. And, if you do it long enough, you can become a Superdud everywhere else in your life.
Each of us has to find a way to limit the distractions and expectations we place upon ourselves so that we can begin to make room for the everyday things that actually require our attention: our significant others, children, loved ones, etc.
Those are the things that enrich us, and those are the things that will make the living of this life better.
My mind is never quiet long enough to actually enjoy the moment I'm in because it's always moving ahead to the next moment—trust me when I tell you it's the most frustrating aspect of being me. It's also hard to control without some serious effort on my part.
I've relied on both yoga and meditation in many situations, but my spiritual beliefs have guided me the rest of the way and, together, all have allowed me to be more aware of my connection to what's actually happening in front of me—keeping me grounded and focused on what's really important.
However, in being such an emotion-hopper (yes, that's a made-up word), I have learned a very valuable lesson about the tendency of individuals to be continually absent within the present. You see, as it turns out, this issue isn't unique to me. We all do it.
We all find ourselves scattered into a million different thoughts, trying to figure out how to do it all. It's born of an inner desire to be both perfect and successful—we're afraid to screw up.
So, we overload, over commit, and overdo everything we can to make us feel that we are being productive and useful to those around us. This can especially be the case with mothers.
We put on our capes and strap on that 'S' and say "Superwoman. Yes, I am".
The only problem with that is, in reality, being a superwoman—or man for that matter—isn't a job meant to be done on a daily basis. And, if you do it long enough, you can become a Superdud everywhere else in your life.
Each of us has to find a way to limit the distractions and expectations we place upon ourselves so that we can begin to make room for the everyday things that actually require our attention: our significant others, children, loved ones, etc.
Those are the things that enrich us, and those are the things that will make the living of this life better.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
We're All Entitled To A Bad Day
Life can be a piece of work and, despite your best intention, there will come a day when you'll wake up and say, " I just can't do it. I'd rather stay in my bed, with the shades drawn, than face another day".
It's inevitable and it's happened to most of us at some point in our lives.
The trick when it happens is determining how to contain the miserable feeling of that day to just that—one day—because you don't want the inconvenience of one bad day to become the basis for having one lousy year.
That's never good.
However, how do you stop that train? I mean, let's face it, it's not easy to keep emotions from spiraling out of control and life has a way of kicking you in the teeth once you're firmly in the mud.
Sometimes it just seems easier to wallow and live inside the pain rather than do anything about it.
Cut all ties and become a loner.
If you shut yourself off from the people, and the connections they offer, you all but guarantee an existence devoid of the pain, disappointment, and excuses they'll be forced to give you—if/when they let you down.
For some, that justifies a life lived without friends, loves, or purpose.
However, the inability to open yourself up to said pain also negates the ability to accept the positives it has to offer—love, companionship, and happiness, to name a few.
You have to decide for yourself if your life is for living or for just being lived—trust there is a difference—and, if you decide it's the latter, you get out of bed, walk out the door, and tell the world to take its best shot.
In my opinion, the risk is worth the reward.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
It's inevitable and it's happened to most of us at some point in our lives.
The trick when it happens is determining how to contain the miserable feeling of that day to just that—one day—because you don't want the inconvenience of one bad day to become the basis for having one lousy year.
That's never good.
However, how do you stop that train? I mean, let's face it, it's not easy to keep emotions from spiraling out of control and life has a way of kicking you in the teeth once you're firmly in the mud.
Sometimes it just seems easier to wallow and live inside the pain rather than do anything about it.
Cut all ties and become a loner.
If you shut yourself off from the people, and the connections they offer, you all but guarantee an existence devoid of the pain, disappointment, and excuses they'll be forced to give you—if/when they let you down.
For some, that justifies a life lived without friends, loves, or purpose.
However, the inability to open yourself up to said pain also negates the ability to accept the positives it has to offer—love, companionship, and happiness, to name a few.
You have to decide for yourself if your life is for living or for just being lived—trust there is a difference—and, if you decide it's the latter, you get out of bed, walk out the door, and tell the world to take its best shot.
In my opinion, the risk is worth the reward.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, January 17, 2011
MLK Day 2011: How Far Has His 'Dream' Come?
As a young girl, growing up in the post-civil rights south, I didn't have to worry about Jim Crow laws. I wasn't concerned that I would be persecuted, beaten, or denied access to a public place because of the color of my skin.
I don't have first-person accounts of my life being threatened.
Every school/college I ever attended was integrated.
At the age of 18, I cast my first vote—no picket lines or shouting protesters to impede my progress.
I'd say my life was, relatively, easy where race is concerned.
That said, I am not naive to the fact that racism exists. It occurs in more subtle forms now, but it is by no means eliminated. And, despite what many believe, it did not become a dead topic with the election of President Barack Obama.
So, as I revisited the "I Have A Dream" speech (seen below), I marveled both at how far we've come and how far we have to go. Though King's speech spoke of racial inequality, the message of tolerance and respect is one that still applies today.
We, as Americans, are still judging each other. We are still looking at the poor and labeling them unworthy of help. We are still choosing to devalue the life of the men and women who decide to live a lifestyle different from that of our own. We are still content to see inner-city children receive lesser educations—at times—than their suburban counterparts.
The ignorance still exists because we continue to allow ourselves to be educated by the words and belief systems of others, rather than through educating ourselves. Change has come, but there is still much room for improvement.
MLK Day was meant to recognize a man who fought hard for the rights of blacks and he is deserving of this respect for all that he was able to do in a time when most were unwilling to take a stand.
However, this day is just as important for those whose lives weren't directly altered by the works of Dr. King, and other great civil rights activists, because it's a sad reminder of how justice can be twisted if left unchallenged.
We are better today than we were 50 years ago, but there is always room to do, and be, better.
I don't have first-person accounts of my life being threatened.
Every school/college I ever attended was integrated.
At the age of 18, I cast my first vote—no picket lines or shouting protesters to impede my progress.
I'd say my life was, relatively, easy where race is concerned.
That said, I am not naive to the fact that racism exists. It occurs in more subtle forms now, but it is by no means eliminated. And, despite what many believe, it did not become a dead topic with the election of President Barack Obama.
So, as I revisited the "I Have A Dream" speech (seen below), I marveled both at how far we've come and how far we have to go. Though King's speech spoke of racial inequality, the message of tolerance and respect is one that still applies today.
We, as Americans, are still judging each other. We are still looking at the poor and labeling them unworthy of help. We are still choosing to devalue the life of the men and women who decide to live a lifestyle different from that of our own. We are still content to see inner-city children receive lesser educations—at times—than their suburban counterparts.
The ignorance still exists because we continue to allow ourselves to be educated by the words and belief systems of others, rather than through educating ourselves. Change has come, but there is still much room for improvement.
MLK Day was meant to recognize a man who fought hard for the rights of blacks and he is deserving of this respect for all that he was able to do in a time when most were unwilling to take a stand.
However, this day is just as important for those whose lives weren't directly altered by the works of Dr. King, and other great civil rights activists, because it's a sad reminder of how justice can be twisted if left unchallenged.
We are better today than we were 50 years ago, but there is always room to do, and be, better.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
School Lunches Could Finally Get A Healthy Change
The USDA is hoping to overhaul school lunch options for the first time in over a decade.
A proposal, sent out today, will request that better options be presented to children who partake in school lunch programs across the nation.
No longer will it be acceptable to offer the greasy, calorie-filled, foods that have become staples in most lunch lines. The USDA will now advocate that foods with lower fat, less sodium, and fewer calories be offered as alternatives.
All I have to say is it's about time!
The obesity rates among children in this country rises more each year, and it is important that we, as parents, start to introduce our children to healthier, more life-sustaining, options.
It's always bothered me to see french fries and juice on the menu, but no bottled water or fresh veggies.
It's often a choice of bad versus worse where school lunches have been concerned. And, with the restrictions on what can be brought into school, preparing sack lunches has become an even bigger challenge for the harried mother/father to face.
The overall responsibility to instill good food choices starts at home, but it will be nice to see that this education could now carry over into their daily lunch menu.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
A proposal, sent out today, will request that better options be presented to children who partake in school lunch programs across the nation.
No longer will it be acceptable to offer the greasy, calorie-filled, foods that have become staples in most lunch lines. The USDA will now advocate that foods with lower fat, less sodium, and fewer calories be offered as alternatives.
All I have to say is it's about time!
The obesity rates among children in this country rises more each year, and it is important that we, as parents, start to introduce our children to healthier, more life-sustaining, options.
It's always bothered me to see french fries and juice on the menu, but no bottled water or fresh veggies.
It's often a choice of bad versus worse where school lunches have been concerned. And, with the restrictions on what can be brought into school, preparing sack lunches has become an even bigger challenge for the harried mother/father to face.
The overall responsibility to instill good food choices starts at home, but it will be nice to see that this education could now carry over into their daily lunch menu.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Curiosity Can Help Eradicate Ignorance
There are "nosey" people and there are intellectually curious ones.
Nosey people want to know more than you do about everything and everybody. They don't necessarily concern themselves with whether or not the information is valid, or even worthwhile, they just want to be sure they are the ones privy to it first. It makes them feel important.
By contrast, intellectually curious people want to know something because it betters them
as individuals and citizens. They understand that only through knowledge can you overcome blind ignorance.
So, they seek out people, outlets, and materials that can benefit them in becoming more informed. That is how they best feel
they are able to play a part in making this world better.
As you grow into the person you wish to be, it's important that you never lose your zest for both finding out the unknown, and sharing that knowledge with others.
Be an instrument of action and never lose sight of how important a role you play in advancing the world around you—for the better.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Nosey people want to know more than you do about everything and everybody. They don't necessarily concern themselves with whether or not the information is valid, or even worthwhile, they just want to be sure they are the ones privy to it first. It makes them feel important.
By contrast, intellectually curious people want to know something because it betters them
as individuals and citizens. They understand that only through knowledge can you overcome blind ignorance.
So, they seek out people, outlets, and materials that can benefit them in becoming more informed. That is how they best feel
they are able to play a part in making this world better.
As you grow into the person you wish to be, it's important that you never lose your zest for both finding out the unknown, and sharing that knowledge with others.
Be an instrument of action and never lose sight of how important a role you play in advancing the world around you—for the better.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
President Obama's Tucson Speech: A Message of Hope and Love
What follows below is the full transcript of President Obama's heartfelt message to the Arizona victims, and their families. It's filled with a stern message of hope, of healing, and of faith in the human spirit's ability to rise up and fight—even in the face of tragedy.
It was delivered with both grace, and humility, and it's tough to imagine anyone finding something negative to say about it.
I wanted to post it here because, as a mother, I was touched strongly by the loss of Christine Taylor. The nine-year old who was only beginning her journey before her life was cut painfully short. Her death, for me, was the most painful pill to swallow because it made me reflect on my own children.
There were many moments of built-in reflection during this speech, but I was particularly struck by the following point, "Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together."
Given the negative political climate we currently live in, I found solace in those words. It was my confirmation that all may not be lost if there is a way for intention to meet action.
For now, there is still hope.
In the end, I loved the message, and felt compelled to repost it here.
Read it, don't read it, It's a part of history now and, in my opinion, it's one of the more positive things to come out of this painful tragedy.
The transcript of this speech is after the jump.
Full transcript:
To the families of those we've lost; to all who called them friends; to the students of this university, the public servants gathered tonight, and the people of Tucson and Arizona: I have come here tonight as an American who, like all Americans, kneels to pray with you today, and will stand by you tomorrow.
There is nothing I can say that will fill the sudden hole torn in your hearts. But know this: the hopes of a nation are here tonight. We mourn with you for the fallen. We join you in your grief. And we add our faith to yours that Representative Gabrielle Giffords and the other living victims of this tragedy pull through.
As Scripture tells us:
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
On Saturday morning, Gabby, her staff, and many of her constituents gathered outside a supermarket to exercise their right to peaceful assembly and free speech. They were fulfilling a central tenet of the democracy envisioned by our founders - representatives of the people answering to their constituents, so as to carry their concerns to our nation's capital. Gabby called it "Congress on Your Corner" - just an updated version of government of and by and for the people.
That is the quintessentially American scene that was shattered by a gunman's bullets. And the six people who lost their lives on Saturday - they too represented what is best in America.
Judge John Roll served our legal system for nearly 40 years. A graduate of this university and its law school, Judge Roll was recommended for the federal bench by John McCain twenty years ago, appointed by President George H.W. Bush, and rose to become Arizona's chief federal judge. His colleagues described him as the hardest-working judge within the Ninth Circuit. He was on his way back from attending Mass, as he did every day, when he decided to stop by and say hi to his Representative. John is survived by his loving wife, Maureen, his three sons, and his five grandchildren.
George and Dorothy Morris - "Dot" to her friends - were high school sweethearts who got married and had two daughters. They did everything together, traveling the open road in their RV, enjoying what their friends called a 50-year honeymoon. Saturday morning, they went by the Safeway to hear what their Congresswoman had to say. When gunfire rang out, George, a former Marine, instinctively tried to shield his wife. Both were shot. Dot passed away.
A New Jersey native, Phyllis Schneck retired to Tucson to beat the snow. But in the summer, she would return East, where her world revolved around her 3 children, 7 grandchildren, and 2 year-old great-granddaughter. A gifted quilter, she'd often work under her favorite tree, or sometimes sew aprons with the logos of the Jets and the Giants to give out at the church where she volunteered. A Republican, she took a liking to Gabby, and wanted to get to know her better.
Dorwan and Mavy Stoddard grew up in Tucson together - about seventy years ago. They moved apart and started their own respective families, but after both were widowed they found their way back here, to, as one of Mavy's daughters put it, "be boyfriend and girlfriend again." When they weren't out on the road in their motor home, you could find them just up the road, helping folks in need at the Mountain Avenue Church of Christ. A retired construction worker, Dorwan spent his spare time fixing up the church along with their dog, Tux. His final act of selflessness was to dive on top of his wife, sacrificing his life for hers.
Everything Gabe Zimmerman did, he did with passion - but his true passion was people. As Gabby's outreach director, he made the cares of thousands of her constituents his own, seeing to it that seniors got the Medicare benefits they had earned, that veterans got the medals and care they deserved, that government was working for ordinary folks. He died doing what he loved - talking with people and seeing how he could help. Gabe is survived by his parents, Ross and Emily, his brother, Ben, and his fiancée, Kelly, who he planned to marry next year.
And then there is nine year-old Christina Taylor Green. Christina was an A student, a dancer, a gymnast, and a swimmer. She often proclaimed that she wanted to be the first woman to play in the major leagues, and as the only girl on her Little League team, no one put it past her. She showed an appreciation for life uncommon for a girl her age, and would remind her mother, "We are so blessed. We have the best life." And she'd pay those blessings back by participating in a charity that helped children who were less fortunate.
Our hearts are broken by their sudden passing. Our hearts are broken - and yet, our hearts also have reason for fullness.
Our hearts are full of hope and thanks for the 13 Americans who survived the shooting, including the congresswoman many of them went to see on Saturday. I have just come from the University Medical Center, just a mile from here, where our friend Gabby courageously fights to recover even as we speak. And I can tell you this - she knows we're here and she knows we love her and she knows that we will be rooting for her throughout what will be a difficult journey.
And our hearts are full of gratitude for those who saved others. We are grateful for Daniel Hernandez, a volunteer in Gabby's office who ran through the chaos to minister to his boss, tending to her wounds to keep her alive. We are grateful for the men who tackled the gunman as he stopped to reload. We are grateful for a petite 61 year-old, Patricia Maisch, who wrestled away the killer's ammunition, undoubtedly saving some lives. And we are grateful for the doctors and nurses and emergency medics who worked wonders to heal those who'd been hurt.
These men and women remind us that heroism is found not only on the fields of battle. They remind us that heroism does not require special training or physical strength. Heroism is here, all around us, in the hearts of so many of our fellow citizens, just waiting to be summoned - as it was on Saturday morning.
Their actions, their selflessness, also pose a challenge to each of us. It raises the question of what, beyond the prayers and expressions of concern, is required of us going forward. How can we honor the fallen? How can we be true to their memory?
You see, when a tragedy like this strikes, it is part of our nature to demand explanations - to try to impose some order on the chaos, and make sense out of that which seems senseless. Already we've seen a national conversation commence, not only about the motivations behind these killings, but about everything from the merits of gun safety laws to the adequacy of our mental health systems. Much of this process, of debating what might be done to prevent such tragedies in the future, is an essential ingredient in our exercise of self-government.
But at a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized - at a time when we are far too eager to lay the blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do - it's important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds.
Scripture tells us that there is evil in the world, and that terrible things happen for reasons that defy human understanding. In the words of Job, "when I looked for light, then came darkness." Bad things happen, and we must guard against simple explanations in the aftermath.
For the truth is that none of us can know exactly what triggered this vicious attack. None of us can know with any certainty what might have stopped those shots from being fired, or what thoughts lurked in the inner recesses of a violent man's mind.
So yes, we must examine all the facts behind this tragedy. We cannot and will not be passive in the face of such violence. We should be willing to challenge old assumptions in order to lessen the prospects of violence in the future.
But what we can't do is use this tragedy as one more occasion to turn on one another. As we discuss these issues, let each of us do so with a good dose of humility. Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together.
After all, that's what most of us do when we lose someone in our family - especially if the loss is unexpected. We're shaken from our routines, and forced to look inward. We reflect on the past. Did we spend enough time with an aging parent, we wonder. Did we express our gratitude for all the sacrifices they made for us? Did we tell a spouse just how desperately we loved them, not just once in awhile but every single day?
So sudden loss causes us to look backward - but it also forces us to look forward, to reflect on the present and the future, on the manner in which we live our lives and nurture our relationships with those who are still with us. We may ask ourselves if we've shown enough kindness and generosity and compassion to the people in our lives. Perhaps we question whether we are doing right by our children, or our community, and whether our priorities are in order. We recognize our own mortality, and are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame - but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others.
That process of reflection, of making sure we align our values with our actions - that, I believe, is what a tragedy like this requires. For those who were harmed, those who were killed - they are part of our family, an American family 300 million strong. We may not have known them personally, but we surely see ourselves in them. In George and Dot, in Dorwan and Mavy, we sense the abiding love we have for our own husbands, our own wives, our own life partners. Phyllis - she's our mom or grandma; Gabe our brother or son. In Judge Roll, we recognize not only a man who prized his family and doing his job well, but also a man who embodied America's fidelity to the law. In Gabby, we see a reflection of our public spiritedness, that desire to participate in that sometimes frustrating, sometimes contentious, but always necessary and never-ending process to form a more perfect union.
And in Christina we see all of our children. So curious, so trusting, so energetic and full of magic.
So deserving of our love.
And so deserving of our good example. If this tragedy prompts reflection and debate, as it should, let's make sure it's worthy of those we have lost. Let's make sure it's not on the usual plane of politics and point scoring and pettiness that drifts away with the next news cycle.
The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better in our private lives - to be better friends and neighbors, co-workers and parents. And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their deaths help usher in more civility in our public discourse, let's remember that it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy, but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to our challenges as a nation, in a way that would make them proud. It should be because we want to live up to the example of public servants like John Roll and Gabby Giffords, who knew first and foremost that we are all Americans, and that we can question each other's ideas without questioning each other's love of country, and that our task, working together, is to constantly widen the circle of our concern so that we bequeath the American dream to future generations.
I believe we can be better. Those who died here, those who saved lives here - they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another is entirely up to us. I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us.
That's what I believe, in part because that's what a child like Christina Taylor Green believed. Imagine: here was a young girl who was just becoming aware of our democracy; just beginning to understand the obligations of citizenship; just starting to glimpse the fact that someday she too might play a part in shaping her nation's future. She had been elected to her student council; she saw public service as something exciting, something hopeful. She was off to meet her congresswoman, someone she was sure was good and important and might be a role model. She saw all this through the eyes of a child, undimmed by the cynicism or vitriol that we adults all too often just take for granted.
I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it. All of us - we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children's expectations.
Christina was given to us on September 11th, 2001, one of 50 babies born that day to be pictured in a book called "Faces of Hope." On either side of her photo in that book were simple wishes for a child's life. "I hope you help those in need," read one. "I hope you know all of the words to the National Anthem and sing it with your hand over your heart. I hope you jump in rain puddles."
If there are rain puddles in heaven, Christina is jumping in them today. And here on Earth, we place our hands over our hearts, and commit ourselves as Americans to forging a country that is forever worthy of her gentle, happy spirit.
May God bless and keep those we've lost in restful and eternal peace. May He love and watch over the survivors. And may He bless the United States of America.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
It was delivered with both grace, and humility, and it's tough to imagine anyone finding something negative to say about it.
I wanted to post it here because, as a mother, I was touched strongly by the loss of Christine Taylor. The nine-year old who was only beginning her journey before her life was cut painfully short. Her death, for me, was the most painful pill to swallow because it made me reflect on my own children.
There were many moments of built-in reflection during this speech, but I was particularly struck by the following point, "Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together."
Given the negative political climate we currently live in, I found solace in those words. It was my confirmation that all may not be lost if there is a way for intention to meet action.
For now, there is still hope.
In the end, I loved the message, and felt compelled to repost it here.
Read it, don't read it, It's a part of history now and, in my opinion, it's one of the more positive things to come out of this painful tragedy.
The transcript of this speech is after the jump.
Full transcript:
To the families of those we've lost; to all who called them friends; to the students of this university, the public servants gathered tonight, and the people of Tucson and Arizona: I have come here tonight as an American who, like all Americans, kneels to pray with you today, and will stand by you tomorrow.
There is nothing I can say that will fill the sudden hole torn in your hearts. But know this: the hopes of a nation are here tonight. We mourn with you for the fallen. We join you in your grief. And we add our faith to yours that Representative Gabrielle Giffords and the other living victims of this tragedy pull through.
As Scripture tells us:
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
On Saturday morning, Gabby, her staff, and many of her constituents gathered outside a supermarket to exercise their right to peaceful assembly and free speech. They were fulfilling a central tenet of the democracy envisioned by our founders - representatives of the people answering to their constituents, so as to carry their concerns to our nation's capital. Gabby called it "Congress on Your Corner" - just an updated version of government of and by and for the people.
That is the quintessentially American scene that was shattered by a gunman's bullets. And the six people who lost their lives on Saturday - they too represented what is best in America.
Judge John Roll served our legal system for nearly 40 years. A graduate of this university and its law school, Judge Roll was recommended for the federal bench by John McCain twenty years ago, appointed by President George H.W. Bush, and rose to become Arizona's chief federal judge. His colleagues described him as the hardest-working judge within the Ninth Circuit. He was on his way back from attending Mass, as he did every day, when he decided to stop by and say hi to his Representative. John is survived by his loving wife, Maureen, his three sons, and his five grandchildren.
George and Dorothy Morris - "Dot" to her friends - were high school sweethearts who got married and had two daughters. They did everything together, traveling the open road in their RV, enjoying what their friends called a 50-year honeymoon. Saturday morning, they went by the Safeway to hear what their Congresswoman had to say. When gunfire rang out, George, a former Marine, instinctively tried to shield his wife. Both were shot. Dot passed away.
A New Jersey native, Phyllis Schneck retired to Tucson to beat the snow. But in the summer, she would return East, where her world revolved around her 3 children, 7 grandchildren, and 2 year-old great-granddaughter. A gifted quilter, she'd often work under her favorite tree, or sometimes sew aprons with the logos of the Jets and the Giants to give out at the church where she volunteered. A Republican, she took a liking to Gabby, and wanted to get to know her better.
Dorwan and Mavy Stoddard grew up in Tucson together - about seventy years ago. They moved apart and started their own respective families, but after both were widowed they found their way back here, to, as one of Mavy's daughters put it, "be boyfriend and girlfriend again." When they weren't out on the road in their motor home, you could find them just up the road, helping folks in need at the Mountain Avenue Church of Christ. A retired construction worker, Dorwan spent his spare time fixing up the church along with their dog, Tux. His final act of selflessness was to dive on top of his wife, sacrificing his life for hers.
Everything Gabe Zimmerman did, he did with passion - but his true passion was people. As Gabby's outreach director, he made the cares of thousands of her constituents his own, seeing to it that seniors got the Medicare benefits they had earned, that veterans got the medals and care they deserved, that government was working for ordinary folks. He died doing what he loved - talking with people and seeing how he could help. Gabe is survived by his parents, Ross and Emily, his brother, Ben, and his fiancée, Kelly, who he planned to marry next year.
And then there is nine year-old Christina Taylor Green. Christina was an A student, a dancer, a gymnast, and a swimmer. She often proclaimed that she wanted to be the first woman to play in the major leagues, and as the only girl on her Little League team, no one put it past her. She showed an appreciation for life uncommon for a girl her age, and would remind her mother, "We are so blessed. We have the best life." And she'd pay those blessings back by participating in a charity that helped children who were less fortunate.
Our hearts are broken by their sudden passing. Our hearts are broken - and yet, our hearts also have reason for fullness.
Our hearts are full of hope and thanks for the 13 Americans who survived the shooting, including the congresswoman many of them went to see on Saturday. I have just come from the University Medical Center, just a mile from here, where our friend Gabby courageously fights to recover even as we speak. And I can tell you this - she knows we're here and she knows we love her and she knows that we will be rooting for her throughout what will be a difficult journey.
And our hearts are full of gratitude for those who saved others. We are grateful for Daniel Hernandez, a volunteer in Gabby's office who ran through the chaos to minister to his boss, tending to her wounds to keep her alive. We are grateful for the men who tackled the gunman as he stopped to reload. We are grateful for a petite 61 year-old, Patricia Maisch, who wrestled away the killer's ammunition, undoubtedly saving some lives. And we are grateful for the doctors and nurses and emergency medics who worked wonders to heal those who'd been hurt.
These men and women remind us that heroism is found not only on the fields of battle. They remind us that heroism does not require special training or physical strength. Heroism is here, all around us, in the hearts of so many of our fellow citizens, just waiting to be summoned - as it was on Saturday morning.
Their actions, their selflessness, also pose a challenge to each of us. It raises the question of what, beyond the prayers and expressions of concern, is required of us going forward. How can we honor the fallen? How can we be true to their memory?
You see, when a tragedy like this strikes, it is part of our nature to demand explanations - to try to impose some order on the chaos, and make sense out of that which seems senseless. Already we've seen a national conversation commence, not only about the motivations behind these killings, but about everything from the merits of gun safety laws to the adequacy of our mental health systems. Much of this process, of debating what might be done to prevent such tragedies in the future, is an essential ingredient in our exercise of self-government.
But at a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized - at a time when we are far too eager to lay the blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do - it's important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds.
Scripture tells us that there is evil in the world, and that terrible things happen for reasons that defy human understanding. In the words of Job, "when I looked for light, then came darkness." Bad things happen, and we must guard against simple explanations in the aftermath.
For the truth is that none of us can know exactly what triggered this vicious attack. None of us can know with any certainty what might have stopped those shots from being fired, or what thoughts lurked in the inner recesses of a violent man's mind.
So yes, we must examine all the facts behind this tragedy. We cannot and will not be passive in the face of such violence. We should be willing to challenge old assumptions in order to lessen the prospects of violence in the future.
But what we can't do is use this tragedy as one more occasion to turn on one another. As we discuss these issues, let each of us do so with a good dose of humility. Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together.
After all, that's what most of us do when we lose someone in our family - especially if the loss is unexpected. We're shaken from our routines, and forced to look inward. We reflect on the past. Did we spend enough time with an aging parent, we wonder. Did we express our gratitude for all the sacrifices they made for us? Did we tell a spouse just how desperately we loved them, not just once in awhile but every single day?
So sudden loss causes us to look backward - but it also forces us to look forward, to reflect on the present and the future, on the manner in which we live our lives and nurture our relationships with those who are still with us. We may ask ourselves if we've shown enough kindness and generosity and compassion to the people in our lives. Perhaps we question whether we are doing right by our children, or our community, and whether our priorities are in order. We recognize our own mortality, and are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame - but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others.
That process of reflection, of making sure we align our values with our actions - that, I believe, is what a tragedy like this requires. For those who were harmed, those who were killed - they are part of our family, an American family 300 million strong. We may not have known them personally, but we surely see ourselves in them. In George and Dot, in Dorwan and Mavy, we sense the abiding love we have for our own husbands, our own wives, our own life partners. Phyllis - she's our mom or grandma; Gabe our brother or son. In Judge Roll, we recognize not only a man who prized his family and doing his job well, but also a man who embodied America's fidelity to the law. In Gabby, we see a reflection of our public spiritedness, that desire to participate in that sometimes frustrating, sometimes contentious, but always necessary and never-ending process to form a more perfect union.
And in Christina we see all of our children. So curious, so trusting, so energetic and full of magic.
So deserving of our love.
And so deserving of our good example. If this tragedy prompts reflection and debate, as it should, let's make sure it's worthy of those we have lost. Let's make sure it's not on the usual plane of politics and point scoring and pettiness that drifts away with the next news cycle.
The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better in our private lives - to be better friends and neighbors, co-workers and parents. And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their deaths help usher in more civility in our public discourse, let's remember that it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy, but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to our challenges as a nation, in a way that would make them proud. It should be because we want to live up to the example of public servants like John Roll and Gabby Giffords, who knew first and foremost that we are all Americans, and that we can question each other's ideas without questioning each other's love of country, and that our task, working together, is to constantly widen the circle of our concern so that we bequeath the American dream to future generations.
I believe we can be better. Those who died here, those who saved lives here - they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another is entirely up to us. I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us.
That's what I believe, in part because that's what a child like Christina Taylor Green believed. Imagine: here was a young girl who was just becoming aware of our democracy; just beginning to understand the obligations of citizenship; just starting to glimpse the fact that someday she too might play a part in shaping her nation's future. She had been elected to her student council; she saw public service as something exciting, something hopeful. She was off to meet her congresswoman, someone she was sure was good and important and might be a role model. She saw all this through the eyes of a child, undimmed by the cynicism or vitriol that we adults all too often just take for granted.
I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it. All of us - we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children's expectations.
Christina was given to us on September 11th, 2001, one of 50 babies born that day to be pictured in a book called "Faces of Hope." On either side of her photo in that book were simple wishes for a child's life. "I hope you help those in need," read one. "I hope you know all of the words to the National Anthem and sing it with your hand over your heart. I hope you jump in rain puddles."
If there are rain puddles in heaven, Christina is jumping in them today. And here on Earth, we place our hands over our hearts, and commit ourselves as Americans to forging a country that is forever worthy of her gentle, happy spirit.
May God bless and keep those we've lost in restful and eternal peace. May He love and watch over the survivors. And may He bless the United States of America.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Who's Minding The Store?
It seems like a silly question to ask but as a simple woman, with simple expectations, I often find myself asking this very question about the country I call home.
Let me get this point out of the way early, I'm not the most well-informed person you will meet. I don't read the newspaper daily, nor do I follow the personalities on CNN or Fox News. Most of the time I'm too busy living my life to focus on such things.
The majority of my days are filled with making sure my kids are cared for and my husband is happy—that's my life and I'm satisfied with that being my life.
However, that does not mean I'm out of touch with the world I live in.
I'm a consumer, the mother of a school-aged child, the wife of a blue-collar employee, the daughter of an educator, and the sister of a banker—the bases are well covered where keeping informed is concerned.
I can see that living comfortably has become harder for many of us and I know that the cost to provide has become more expensive than ever.
Things are not good. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to notice.
Which leads back to my original question: who's minding the store?
Who's looking out for little me in my semi-rural existence? Who's fighting hard to make sure that the laws passed are done with me in mind?
Are there still legislators out there who believe in doing work "for the people", or have they all forgotten they work for us?
I am a citizen of this country. I love my freedom, and I value my right to live without boundaries. But, it occurs to me that the system is broken, and I'm not sure that there are enough good people in place to fix it.
Who's minding the store?...Who knows.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Let me get this point out of the way early, I'm not the most well-informed person you will meet. I don't read the newspaper daily, nor do I follow the personalities on CNN or Fox News. Most of the time I'm too busy living my life to focus on such things.
The majority of my days are filled with making sure my kids are cared for and my husband is happy—that's my life and I'm satisfied with that being my life.
However, that does not mean I'm out of touch with the world I live in.
I'm a consumer, the mother of a school-aged child, the wife of a blue-collar employee, the daughter of an educator, and the sister of a banker—the bases are well covered where keeping informed is concerned.
I can see that living comfortably has become harder for many of us and I know that the cost to provide has become more expensive than ever.
Things are not good. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to notice.
Which leads back to my original question: who's minding the store?
Who's looking out for little me in my semi-rural existence? Who's fighting hard to make sure that the laws passed are done with me in mind?
Are there still legislators out there who believe in doing work "for the people", or have they all forgotten they work for us?
I am a citizen of this country. I love my freedom, and I value my right to live without boundaries. But, it occurs to me that the system is broken, and I'm not sure that there are enough good people in place to fix it.
Who's minding the store?...Who knows.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, January 10, 2011
You Have The Right To Remain Informed
I'm a registered voter.
I value my right as a citizen, and as a woman, to play a part in how this country is run. I teach my children, even though they are still too young to understand, that it's important to be counted—even if they find themselves in the minority.
It's about taking a stand, and making a commitment, to be a part of the governmental process. The outcome may not always end in your favor, but that should never be an excuse for not being a part of the journey. However, after the shootings in Arizona, I am less and less enamored of that journey.
The killings in Tuscon, AZ—including the near-fatal wounding of Gabrielle Giffords—reminded me that the time we live in has become volatile. The hatred, the inability to accept the views of others, and the endless need to place blame on someone, anyone, for the mess that has been created seems to take precedence over finding solutions—and that's sad.
Jared Loughner—albeit disturbed—has become representative of where we're headed as a nation if we don't start to check our values at the gate. So many of us blindly follow the herd that we can no longer distinguish our personal beliefs from that of our favorite political figures.
We blindly follow them and all they say because we no longer remember how to lead for ourselves, and that's unacceptable. If you don't like the world you live in, do more to exact the change you want to see.
Don't spend your time pointing fingers and placing blame because, the truth is, no one is innocent of this mess we've brought upon ourselves. We have all played a part in this debacle and we all need to play an equal part in digging ourselves out.
Step away from the rhetoric and get back to the business of educating yourself and those around you—if they're willing to listen—about the real issues. Because, in the end, that's all that matters—everything else is just hot air.
I value my right as a citizen, and as a woman, to play a part in how this country is run. I teach my children, even though they are still too young to understand, that it's important to be counted—even if they find themselves in the minority.
It's about taking a stand, and making a commitment, to be a part of the governmental process. The outcome may not always end in your favor, but that should never be an excuse for not being a part of the journey. However, after the shootings in Arizona, I am less and less enamored of that journey.
The killings in Tuscon, AZ—including the near-fatal wounding of Gabrielle Giffords—reminded me that the time we live in has become volatile. The hatred, the inability to accept the views of others, and the endless need to place blame on someone, anyone, for the mess that has been created seems to take precedence over finding solutions—and that's sad.
Jared Loughner—albeit disturbed—has become representative of where we're headed as a nation if we don't start to check our values at the gate. So many of us blindly follow the herd that we can no longer distinguish our personal beliefs from that of our favorite political figures.
We blindly follow them and all they say because we no longer remember how to lead for ourselves, and that's unacceptable. If you don't like the world you live in, do more to exact the change you want to see.
Don't spend your time pointing fingers and placing blame because, the truth is, no one is innocent of this mess we've brought upon ourselves. We have all played a part in this debacle and we all need to play an equal part in digging ourselves out.
Step away from the rhetoric and get back to the business of educating yourself and those around you—if they're willing to listen—about the real issues. Because, in the end, that's all that matters—everything else is just hot air.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Ted Williams: Living Proof That Opportunity Can Meet Preparation
If you asked an everyday person who "Ted Williams" was—two days ago—chances are you might have elicited a blank stare or a guess that he was the late, great, baseball player.
Well, today, Ted Williams'—a homeless man—miraculous story of hope has reached millions , and his "golden voice" has become a media sensation.
His story won't be recounted here, as it can easily be found by now, but the message within his story is what has resonated the most: never give up, never stop putting your best foot forward.
Times will be hard, no doubt, and the choice to give up will seem easier than the one to keep going, but you have to trust what you have. Trust that your talent, your hard work, and your decision to remain true to who you are will pay off at some point.
You may not become a millionaire, or garner worldwide fame, but you will be okay. And, in the end, that's really all most of us want in the first place—to be okay.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Well, today, Ted Williams'—a homeless man—miraculous story of hope has reached millions , and his "golden voice" has become a media sensation.
His story won't be recounted here, as it can easily be found by now, but the message within his story is what has resonated the most: never give up, never stop putting your best foot forward.
Times will be hard, no doubt, and the choice to give up will seem easier than the one to keep going, but you have to trust what you have. Trust that your talent, your hard work, and your decision to remain true to who you are will pay off at some point.
You may not become a millionaire, or garner worldwide fame, but you will be okay. And, in the end, that's really all most of us want in the first place—to be okay.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Holding Her OWN—Oprah Makes An Impressive Debut
Let me go on the record and say I'm not one of those Oprah fanatics. You know the type—the ones that would buy a keychain made out of moth balls because she said it was the "best thing ever".No, I'm more of a casual Oprah fan. I admire all she's accomplished as both talk show host and philanthropist—but I'm not about to start funneling my extra money to the Angel Network.
That said, I did find myself intrigued to see what her new network, OWN, would bring to the media landscape.
I, for one, wasn't interested in seeing an inordinate amount of stories like those you often find on The Oprah Winfrey Show, which has seemingly become the place to go for some of the more troubling and depressing topics of this decade—particularly those centering around abuse and incest.
However, at the same time, I was willing to give her new network venture a chance because I fit her audience profile. I have become disillusioned with television's overall quality over the last five years and long for something better as an alternative. There is entirely too much reality television and not nearly enough substance to be found on the airwaves and it would be nice to have a choice.
So, when OWN debuted on January 1st, I tuned in to see what Oprah's next chapter looks like, and I was pleasantly rewarded with a refreshing brand of television.
One of the more standout shows was Oprah's Master's Class, on which Jay-Z was first up in offering his reflections on life and what it takes to be a success:
It was captivating to watch and it's a series that definitely seems to have legs with Condoleeza Rice, Maya Angelou, and Simon Cowell all appearing at some point.
Other shows with meat include, Searching For... and Kidnapped By The Kids, both center around the importance of family, and making connections with those most important in our lives.
The documentary covering her final season hosting The Oprah Winfrey Show is also entertaining. It's a bit like being a fly on the wall in her daily life—certainly it's a watered-down snapshot, but it offers enough of a glimpse that you get the idea of how much hard work goes into making her show the success it has become over the year.
OWN definitely has promise and I will be re-visiting the channel often—eager to see what else Ms. Winfrey has to offer.
Monday, January 3, 2011
You Must Find Your Inner Quiet
Remaining focused can be difficult. The world offers so many distractions and exudes so much noise, that it's tough to give your complete attention to anything or anyone without feeling overwhelmed or stressed out.
The best way to combat against those distractions is to find your inner quiet—the place within you that offers a retreat from the madness.
It's a peaceful place—unobstructed by the pressures of the world. Your job is to find it and make it your solitude, your mental escape hatch, if you will, so that even when you find yourself in situations of massive chaos, you're at perfect peace.
How do you find it? That's your journey to undertake. However, here's a hint of what those feelings might resemble once you do: it's the warmth you experience when you see something beautiful—your child sleeping or the sun setting over a lovely landscape. The confidence you feel after a fresh haircut or a lucrative promotion.
It's the reminiscent feeling of
safety and comfort you get whenever you go home to see your family.
It's the place that gives you the most consistent feeling of serenity—no matter what the situation.
That place is your inner quiet.
You must learn to harness those feelings so you can draw upon them in times of major stress and/or difficulty.
If you can do that, you can quiet the world around you and start to focus on the things that truly matter in your life.
The best way to combat against those distractions is to find your inner quiet—the place within you that offers a retreat from the madness.
It's a peaceful place—unobstructed by the pressures of the world. Your job is to find it and make it your solitude, your mental escape hatch, if you will, so that even when you find yourself in situations of massive chaos, you're at perfect peace.
How do you find it? That's your journey to undertake. However, here's a hint of what those feelings might resemble once you do: it's the warmth you experience when you see something beautiful—your child sleeping or the sun setting over a lovely landscape. The confidence you feel after a fresh haircut or a lucrative promotion.
It's the reminiscent feeling of
safety and comfort you get whenever you go home to see your family.
It's the place that gives you the most consistent feeling of serenity—no matter what the situation.
That place is your inner quiet.
You must learn to harness those feelings so you can draw upon them in times of major stress and/or difficulty.
If you can do that, you can quiet the world around you and start to focus on the things that truly matter in your life.
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