Tag: Personal Stories

Waving At Neighbors

I have this neighbor who, while walking this high maintenance, sassy, fluff ball of a dog—will wave at every passing car and neighbor without ever bothering to look up to see how (if) they respond in return.

…And it’s an act I’ve sort of come to love.

I notice in myself a keen awareness in how (if) other people respond to my waves. And I take mental note of the ones who do wave back and the ones who don’t so I can adjust accordingly. Essentially, I keep score. Maybe you can relate?

But, when you remove the expectation of a return—suddenly the wave becomes more… pure. It is no longer transactionary in nature (I wave so that you can wave back and vice versa)—it merely is done for the sake of the action itself and spreads the sort of vibes you would want in your neighborhood regardless of how another neighbor decides to respond.

…Maybe, like my neighbor, the key is in the not bothering to check how someone responds after the wave is given?

…Or maybe the key is in getting a high maintenance, sassy, fluff ball of a dog that keeps you completely preoccupied every time you wave?

…After watching my neighbor pull this off for years, I think both options work just as well.

Drive To Play

Tonight, for the first time in a long time I got to play sand volleyball with some friends.

It was the type of game where none of us were keeping score, all of us were yelling, diving, and cheering, and we all were about as bad as the rest—and it was a blast.

Towards the end of the game, I noticed an older women in uniform, presumably a facilities worker, who was watching curiously from the sideline.

It’s hard to describe, but in the manner of her body language, tilt of her head, and look on her face—it was as though she was living vicariously through us for that brief blip of time—unlike the other spectators who were very casually watching.

It was as though she was entranced—maybe remembering times from the past? Maybe soaking in some of the fun for herself? Maybe just entertained by the ridiculous sight of it all?

…What she was thinking, I’ll never know.

But, what it got me thinking about was how grateful I was to be the participant in those moments. To be the one on the court doing the yelling, diving, and cheering. To be the person in that privileged position of being able to play the game.

Something I think many of us take for granted… until one day we find ourselves drawn to a commotion… that’s on our path home… that contains this scene of people yelling, diving, and cheering… that leads us to a sideline… where we find ourselves watching vicariously…

And suddenly… without a drive to play.

The Everything Else

Tonight, I had the pleasure of celebrating the end of my mom’s career with her at her retirement party.

Surrounded by colleagues, close friends, loved ones, board members, and more—it was a warm and vibrant gathering filled with a great many emotions.

And while all that was said throughout the evening was heart warming, kind, and beautifully delivered—what hit me the most had nothing to do with words at all.

…What hit me the most was this brief, minute or two slideshow that showcased assorted moments from throughout her career, that was backed with just the right song, and was played in conclusion—after all of the speeches, toasts, and honors were given.

It opened with an image of my mom from 20 years earlier (when she first accepted the role) and closed with a picture of her in front of the same wall that must’ve been taken from just a few days earlier.

And what was in between… yes… what was in between was what hit me.

It wasn’t words.

It was faces.

Faces not only of people whose lives touched my mom’s, but whose lives my mom was able to touch.

It can be so easy to get lost in the words—the product of the organization—that we can take the faces for granted. But, it’s not the words who show up to your retirement party—it’s the people. And what a beautiful bunch of people my mom was able to attract into her life.

Words matter—don’t get me wrong. But, in many respects, it’s the everything else—the intent, timing, body language, care, charisma, belief, devotion, warmth, strength, etc—that makes the legacy.

The Almonds Guy

I’ll never forget the day I met The Almonds Guy.

There I was, a young and dumb teenager, out partying with my young and dumb teenager friends, in the middle of some local woods, doing young and dumb teenager stuff, when all of a sudden…

This guy walks onto the scene.

…Not too much older than us—early college maybe. Built. Wearing a football jersey that struggled to fit his biceps (which were the size of my head), who was casually eating from a can of… almonds.

Now, mind you—there were a lot of young and dumb teenagers on scene… maybe 30+. And all of them looked just as young and dumb as the next. But, this guy? …He stood out.

He wasn’t drinking. He wasn’t smoking. He wasn’t there for any of it. He was just roaming, laughing, connecting, and… getting his protein on.

I was completely captivated by it.

So, naturally, I stayed close and listened to this out-of-place figure speak what felt like his sermon. And at one point, somebody (finally) asked why he wasn’t partying like the rest… he smiled and said, “My body is my temple. And I treat it as such.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but this hit me at my core. And later became an image I would base the image of my highest self around.

What’s strange though is I never saw or heard of him again. Nor did I ever hear my friends mention anything of him again. I never even got his name.

…And sometimes I wonder if I ever really did meet The Almonds Guy?

Or if The Almonds Guy was something that met me…

Invest In The Light

I have an indoor plant sitting next to my kitchen sink that’s on the side of a window.

About half of the plant’s branches see sunlight and the other half doesn’t.

Earlier this week, as I went to wash the dishes, the growth imbalance was impressively noticeable. It honestly looked as though the plant might tip into the sink because of how long the branches reached on the sunshine side.

So, I spun it 180 degrees.

Glancing at it today, I was blown away at how quick its response was.

All of the little buds that were poking out from the branches on the old sunshine side have been effectively cancelled and tons of new little buds on the new sunshine side have been commissioned.

No hesitation.

Imagine if we were able to elicit such a quick response in our lives, too?

Does your work feel like it’s suddenly in (or heading towards) darkness? Does it feel like one of your sunshine relationships is setting? Is one of your favorite group activities coming to a sad conclusion?

Maybe this 180 degree turn is an opportunity for you to become more balanced. Maybe it’s an opportunity for you to invest in new branches and find new, fresh sources of sunshine. Maybe it’s happening for a reason and your resistance, complaints, and hesitation is precisely what’s keeping you in the darkness…

When all you have to do is redirect your energy and resources towards the new light.

P.s. In case you missed it, you can read the best of what I posted to MoveMe Quotes last week, here.

Living With Courage

Today, the Martial Arts Academy I teach at lead a group of students through their black belt and higher degree test.

At the end of the ceremony, some of the graduates were asked to share their thoughts, feelings, stories, and/or gratitude over the microphone to the audience.

One young girl shook me with her words when she said, “I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for this school because it’s where my mommy met my daddy.”

…As in, she literally wouldn’t be alive if that school hadn’t been opened because her parents would’ve likely never met and never would’ve, you know, had her.

But, they did meet. And they did have that precious little girl. And that little girl worked incredibly hard to earn her black belt and was filled with emotion at the weight of what that represented.

This, for me, is a wonderful reminder to live life with courage. To get out into the local world and try new things. Even if that means starting out at white belt when you’re already at a “black belt” level in many other areas of life. Where there aren’t screens separating us and where we’re able to meet like-minded people who are also committed to personal growth.

Because, as is illustrated so beautifully in this story… you just never know.

And what a shame it would be if it was a lack of courage that kept something beautiful like this from ever happening.

Sacred Spaces

“I have to draw a boundary with my mom.”

…A friend was telling me apprehensively as we finished a morning run.

“She’s trying to come with me to yoga class at my yoga studio—which is something I would love for her to get into—but that’s my sacred space.”

To which I replied… “You’re absolutely right.”

It doesn’t matter who the person is or how important they are in your life—your mom, your sibling, your spouse—there are some things you simply need to do for yourself which sometimes need to be done by yourself.

Period.

Because you know who’s more important than your mom, your sibling, or your spouse?

…You are.

And if you don’t recognize that and prioritize things in your life that make you feel collected/calm/sane—then it’s the very people who you’re prioritizing over yourself who’ll experience the adverse effects of that. Pretty backwards, eh?

So if there are spaces that need to be held sacred so you can have necessary releases in your practice? Then you hold those spaces sacred.

If there are activities you’re doing that allow you to express and connect in a way that’s disrupted by the presence of others? Then you draw that boundary.

If your mental health and sanity is telling you that you need to do a thing for your mental health and sanity—then it’s your loved ones, more than anyone else, who should understand and support you. Not object, take offense, and make you feel bad.

The relationship we have with ourself needs to count. It deserves to be prioritized. And like any relationship, it requires dedicated time. Never feel bad about giving yourself time.