Saturday, August 20, 2016

Light The Way

If I had to pick one, I'd Be A Lamp...how about you?


Light, for me, is magic.


Finding my way in the dark of night, stumbling and bumbling, feels like my true self.
Opening my eyes each morning and receiving the gift of sunlight and new eyes that can see clearly feels like some sort of angel sitting on my shoulder guiding my way.

Sun salutations?

Definitely.

Flashlights.
Fireplace warmth.
Fireworks.
Reading lamp.
Camping lantern.
Flash of a camera.
Christmas lights.
All of it - every last twinkle - makes me smile and fills my heart.


*****


My other love...books.
Ever since I've been little I've escaped into their world.
Books are friends.
They share dreams, wisdom, an alternate universe, the dangers of evil, the strength of heroes, 
the laughable, the cringeworthy, the thought-provoking.
They are what I turn to in times of deep sadness.
In boredom.
In joyful moments of lounging.
They provide supreme comfort.

Books are also a link to friends and strangers.

I remember standing in line at midnight for not one Harry Potter book but four different ones.
I got teary seeing all those people lining up, excited and energized, for a book!
Those were my people.


*****


So it only makes sense that a book would lead me to light.
Do you know Susan Branch?

I feel like I might have shared her with you before...
she's a cookbook author who handwrites every page of each book and then sprinkles it with watercolor pictures and quotes and provides the most delicious of recipes.

Her first book is called The Heart of the Home.

Her vibe is all about the beauty of home:
a carefully made meal, a mindfully set table, flowers in a vase, family.
She's about comfort and care.

Love distilled into food and friendship and family.

I found her cookbooks probably from my mom and then became a hard core fan.
I just knew we would be besties if our paths could cross. :)
But over the last few years, things have changed.

Susan Branch has moved from writing cookbooks to sharing her life story.
In the span of four years, she's written three books:

If you look carefully you can see all my tabs...loved too many pages in these books.

And so it came to pass that I shared Susan with anyone I could...
...my friend Michelle made a spontaneous road trip down with me and toddler Caroline to Susan's store in Arroyo Grande, California when it was closing
...my sister-in-law, Audrey, would share her favorite Susan Branchisms
...my friend, Kim, would read and share and meet for coffee...and even come with me to a book signing when Susan and Joe made their cross country road trip to independent bookstores all over the nation.
Martha's Vineyard was always a place to visit...someday.

I live on the west coast...it is all the way across the country.
That's a thing for another day...

...only it didn't feel like that any more.
My Somedays need to be more present-day.

How many Somedays do I have??
None.
Only this day right here.right.now.

My friend Kim was convinced we should create a trip to Martha's Vineyard with our husbands...that sounded pretty great to me...so we speculated and dreamt and discussed over coffee.

Months later she uttered the truth out loud:
"We're never going to go to Martha's Vineyard with our husbands, are we?"

It sat there...getting dusty...before I could wish out loud:
"Nope...but we could just go."

*****

It rolled around in my head.
It flexed its muscle in my heart.
The seed was sprouting and I found myself randomly smiling at the thought.
What if?
Why not?
I shouldn't.

And then, well, I started poking around...
how was John's work schedule, the kids life schedules, were there sisters who could pick up after school, a babysitter who would hang out for some hours???
Those pieces of the puzzle felt like border pieces. They felt smooth and possible.

What about flights?
Kim's schedule?
Her family?
Hotels? Ferry rides? Airport shuttles?

And like some crazy meant-to-be moment the universe kept saying 
Y-E-S.

Nothing was hard.
The flights weren't expensive.
The hotel was available.
Everything worked...so we leaped!

Within ten days of wishing out loud, it happened.
This is real. Oak Bluffs Ocean Park.
Please go there.
*****

  We chose to make our way to Martha's Vineyard in August so that we could attend 
The Grand Illumination.
Something that Susan had described in her book.


There is a Methodist campground in Oak Bluffs on Martha's Vineyard.
In the center is an outdoor covered amphitheater.
It's used for church services on Sundays...
and outdoor movies and concerts and gatherings all the other days.
Surrounding this amphitheater is grass and trees and on all four sides, tiny Gingerbread cottages. (their words, not mine)
These tiny homes are built on what used to be tent platforms.
They are every color imaginable...
blue, purple, orange, red, yellow, pink
a rainbow of relaxation.

Nothing is serious here.
Except family.
In this little spot, family is everything.

For 148 years these families have been celebrating The Grand Illumination.
They decorate their gingerbread cottages with Chinese lanterns - every front porch is adorned - and then these families sit on their front porch and chill (as Patrick likes to say) until dark.
They want to talk to you and share their family's story.
They make food for you to snack on while you visit.
Free drinks. Some houses give away glow in the dark necklaces.
Or flags.

But they all give away friendship.

Two tourists with no clue...meandering...and visiting and everyone wanting to share the secrets:
Get their early.
Bring a picnic.
Be ready to sing.
Ask the people about their houses.
Visit.
Take pictures.
Soak it all in.
These two were born on the Vineyard...lived their whole life here. Lucky.
Hand painted lanterns...just because.
A veteran just waiting to share his story.

Yes, this is the family that belongs to this home.
The woman in the pink on the right hand side made every costume for her family.


So we soak it all up, have a picnic of egg salad and turkey sandwiches made from
Skinny's Fat Sandwiches and get ready for the dark.

We know there is some sort of singing concert before the lanterns are lit...so like true groupies we stake out our seats early, expecting a California-sized crush of people.
We're here after all. :)

But, although every seat fills up, there's no frenzy.
No huffing and puffing about getting the right seat...or who is saving seats.

Right on time, the Vineyard Haven band begins a patriotic concert to rival anything you've heard in Washington, D.C. or any other hub of American life.
The Boston Pops got nothing on Vineyard Haven.

Plus, there are a few thousand of us willing to sing.

So we belt out every tune you can imagine, beginning with, I'm not kidding,
Amazing Grace.

I just sit there, wondering, truly if this is real.
The tears come before the second verse.
Dancing children.
Entire families.
People who have been doing this for more than half a century.

Together we sing:
76 Trombones
Old New Orleans style hymn
Star Spangled Banner
Working on the Railroad
I Don't Want to March in the Infantry
Happy Birthday
In the Good Ole Summertime
Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore
Amazing Grace - just for good measure
My Hat It Has Three Corners
John Brown's Baby Has a Cold Upon Its Chest
God Bless America
Yankee Doodle
Glory Glory Hallelujah
Grand Old Flag
America the Beautiful
John Phillips Souza March

You would think we might be over it...
but in truth, we were hypnotized.

The Obamas were visiting the island while we were there.
Plenty of black SUVs lurked around every corner.
Crowds gathered all over trying to get a glimpse of the President and his family.

We never saw them...
but the whole time I was singing I was wishing he could be watching this from some little obscure Gingerbread cottage.

Wish he could see these people, our shared history...and just feel the connection we all had.

I like to pretend he got to see it.
So he can know.


And then the emcee called up the person who has come to The Grand Illumination 
for the longest time. 
For us, the woman was attending her 68th Illumination.
She had the honor of lighting the first lantern.

In the dark of that giant amphitheater we strained to see the tiniest light surrounded by a paper lantern...the woman walked to the very edge of the theater and like magic, all of the lanterns on the theater lit up in a gorgeous circle of light.

And then...poof...all of the 300 gingerbread cottages lit up.


The entire place was dark except for the glow of those lanterns...
No other way to describe it...magic.
The full moon was even trying to be part of the party.
Just in case you wanted to see the hand-painted lanterns in the dark.

The crowd was reverent and fun if that is even possible...but yes, things that seem impossible are common place around here.

The crowds were full of joy and genuine wonder...
like we all were holding our own personal firefly.

We wandered and followed the light...never caring which direction we meandered - 
feeling like we were nestled in a cocoon of candlelight.

We walked our way back to our hotel and couldn't really let it go.
Laughing and smiling, it still felt like a dream.

*****

I'm back now.

A seashell tucked into my purse right in the spot I can see it every day...
to remind me of the light in the darkness...
of dreams coming true...
of friendship and Somedays lived in the Now...
of books and authors and the magic of connection...
of beauty all around us.

Light the way.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Micro Kindness



There.
I needed to say that.

Our world is having a bit of a tizzy.
Actually, it feels like a volcano oozing magma...getting ready to blow.
Insane violence.
Nasty. Mean. Cruel.

I think we've forgotten that there are grandmothers in our world.

Would you act that way around your grandmother?
Or a brand new baby?

We have prejudice.
Institutional racism.
Poor choices.
Pathetic decisions.
Needlessly lost lives.
So much trauma for so many people that it feels like an overwhelming wave.

As Billy Joel once so wisely said,
"We didn't start the fire."

I know that...but what can we do to at least try to douse it quick?

*****

Sometimes, your heart just needs to hear some words.
The universe reaches out and taps you on the shoulder.

My gift came a few days ago with this incredible wisdom from a commencement speech by 
Nipun Mehta, creator of Service Space. 

Read his amazing words here.

There are so many jewels within the speech and so many big ideas to consider...
but the one that has stuck with me for two days...
over and over in my mind
...is the idea of micro-kindness.

Nipun ends his speech with a story of his great grandfather: 

"I want to close with a story about my great grandfather.  He was a man of little wealth who still managed to give every single day of his life.  Each morning, he had a ritual of going on a walk -- and as he walked, he diligently fed the ant hills along his path with small pinches of wheat flour.  Now that is an act of micro generosity so small that it might seem utterly negligible, in the grand scheme of the universe.  How does it matter?  It matters in that it changed him inside.  And my great grandfather's goodness shaped the worldview of my grandparents who in turn influenced that of their children -- my parents.   Today those ants and the ant hills are gone, but my great grandpa’s spirit is very much embedded in all my actions and their future ripples. It is precisely these small, often invisible, acts of inner transformation that mold the stuff of our being, and bend the arc of our shared destiny."

This idea of the tiniest of kindnesses offered freely to the most over-looked of creatures as just a way of living in the world drilled directly into my heart.

How do I go through my days?
Am I intentional, like Nipun's great grandfather?
Do I give every single day of my life?
Do I consider the influence of the smallest of movements...the tiniest of choices?

Where are the anthills in my life?
Are they starving?

I wonder about my ancestors and how they lived.
Did they find a way to feed the anthills?

It feels like Nipun's observations are exactly what is needed right now in our world.

We don't need big, grandiose, lavish goodness...although that would be lovely right now.
We need micro kindness.
I know it's micro but it's a B-I-G idea.

Moments that are seconds long but offer a second chance, a soft place to land, a bit of sunshine.
We need the space...the momentary pause, that is void of judgment...and open to possibility.
Those are the seconds that save lives.
Change lives.
Transform lives.

Today we have a chance to test out micro-kindness.

What have we got to lose?
Not a thing.
Seems like our world could use a whole bunch of people tipping the scale toward kindness.

I want to stand on that side.

Tonight, I'm grateful for the chance to keep trying.


Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Joy


Want to tell a graduate some words of wisdom? Share this:


We go around and spend our days with people at work or school and never really know what it is they are in love with.
Unless they randomly share a story about a family member or a special treat they've made or talk about some tickets they are buying...providing the tiniest window into what moves them.

If we're lucky, they share their love.
They reveal a love for ballet, or theater or travel, or knitting, or singing, or butterfly collecting...
or whatever.

It really doesn't matter.

Whatever they love, 
that is the secret passageway to their joy.

Like a chemical reaction, joy just bubbles up.

Caroline has had a coach for two years that loves soccer.

LOVES it.

He thinks about it at all hours of the day, researches the game, seeks out ideas for making practices engaging and learns methods of teaching very specific techniques.
He writes lengthy emails.
Offers up videos to watch.
Let's us know when the next big professional game is on so we can find a way to watch it.

I happen to have a kid who loves soccer so it's a win/win...no pun intended.

But, that's the big question...
which came first?
The chicken or the egg...did Jeremy love soccer enough to catch Caroline on fire...or was Caroline already simmering with a love that caught fire once she met a coach with the right flame.

Who cares.

What matters is that for two years Caroline has been swimming in the pool of soccer love.
And well, she's soaked.

It makes her smile...pumps her up...fills her up.

It takes a very special coach to aim for the decades after his players are done with the sport.
Decades from now, the goal is that the players will still love the sport.
Still perk up when they hear about a game or an exceptional player.
They will still smile at fancy footwork or a tremendous save all those years later.

Caroline's coach did not focus on winning.

He focused on joy.
His joy in the endeavor couldn't help but seep into the kids' idea of the sport.

His zen energy during a game radiated that joy.

Yes, yes, winning sure is fun...
but there is joy in a hard fought game that was razor close...even if you lose.
There is joy in leaving it all on the field, regardless of the score.

There's joy in a beautiful pass, a strategic kick or an incredible save...
even if the game ends with a loss.

What Jeremy knows is what all coaches who see decades down the road know:
winning or losing are just words, what matters is what you feel.

Do you feel that essential connection with your teammates?
Do you feel that what you are bringing to your team matters?
Do you feel important? Wanted? Needed?
Do you feel excited?
Empowered?

Kids sports today are often drudgery...
practices that go too long or meet too often.
Parents on the sidelines yelling useless tips...caring way way too much about the win.

All sorts of people are taking it way too seriously.

Tonight I'm grateful that Caroline has stood in Coach Jeremy's sunshine for two seasons.
Two seasons of JOY.

Joy in learning.
Joy in striving.
Joy in just playing the game.

There is no way to thank someone for sharing their joy...
except for maybe letting them see the joy that has been passed on. 


Is it the joy of a well placed kick?


The joy of friendship?


Or the joy of climbing trees with friends?

Too many joyful moments to count. 

Thank you, Jeremy, for your kindness, your gentle strength, your willingness to have fun and most importantly for your joy.

It's been contagious.

Coach Stacy...you're amazingly wonderful too...a true partner in sharing the joy.
Your support and dedication and sense of fun made this past season extra wonderful. 






Thursday, April 28, 2016

Integrity


Tonight's newspaper had someone grabbing the headlines...
and up in the smaller spot, appropriately above the fray, someone smiling and showing us the way.

Take a look for yourself:

Chancellor Katehi meet Jim Sochor.

Jim Sochor was the beloved football (and golf) coach for UC Davis for 30 years.
He was humble and soft spoken.
He was a gifted listener and genuine in every way.

People responded to his work ethic.
His kindness.
His ability to out-perform against more talented and more funded football programs.

Mostly, they knew they were in the presence of integrity.

He was honest.
Dependable.
Real.
True to his word.

Chancellor Katehi, are you listening?

There is a reason that Coach Sochor could walk around town 
and talk to anybody at any time with that shy smile.
He was approachable and appreciative.
We could feel his authenticity.

He was the definition of beloved and admired.

In this time of uncertainty and shady-doings by our Chancellor, 
Jim Sochor's legacy is a reminder of what an Aggie really is.

UC Davis isn't lost.
We know what is valued.

We're not flashy...
or shady...
or attention-seeking...

We're the Jim Sochor version:
head down, working hard,
letting the effort and the work speak for itself,
finding a way to be the best when the odds are against us.

This quote is what it means to be an Aggie:
"We knew that everybody we played would be bigger, stronger, faster and 
more talented than we were. 
We had to find a way. 
And that way was that no one would be closer as a team than we would be. 
Our central values became trust, unity, togetherness." 
-- Jim Sochor in a 2007 interview

Trust - Unity - Togetherness

This, right here, is the way we find our way back.
Our path to healing.

I went to school at UC Davis when Trust, Unity and Togetherness were real 
and available right on campus...
students, they still are -- available right this minute.

Integrity matters.

We can lift the pepper-sprayed pages of our recent history and dive deeper to to our shared history with this man who leaves such a remarkable legacy.

He leaves a legacy of love.
Friendship.
Kindess.
Care.

Those who knew Jim Sochor well - and even those of us who only knew him from short, quick limited conversations - knew what mattered most to him:
family.

But, funny enough, he pretty much considered all of Davis to be his family...
and we all happily signed up to stand in his sunshine.

We each get to choose how we spend our days.
Our micro-choices add up.

Do we choose kindness?
Unity?
Trust?

I do.
I choose Jim Sochor's Aggie Pride.everytime.

Instead of Googling pepper spray,
Google Jim Sochor.
Google Larry Vanderhoef while you're at it.

Those two don't need any internet scrubbing. 
Just a chance to internet shine.

This coming Saturday will be a day that we all stop and remember a terrific human.
He's deeply missed...his absence so painfully noticeable.

But, he crossed our path for a reason.
He showed us how.

Strive for unity, trust and togetherness.

Seek the good.
Stay honest.
Work hard...and make the magic happen.
Jim did.
We can too.

"Fame is a vapor.
Popularity an accident.
Riches take wings.
Only one thing endures
and that is character."
-- Horace Greeley

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Seeing What Hasn't Been



He arrived into our school following on the heels of a woman 
who had taught music at our school for decades. 
She was beloved and gifted.
She taught the students hymns and songs that were inspirational.
She taught the students to play the bells at Christmas.
She loved music and she was a professional.
Teaching music with a pride and a respect that was mirrored with her singers.

He came bearing a guitar, strumming the kindergarteners toward the music room like a Pied Piper.

I liked him immediately.

She was traditional.
He liked Coldplay.

He played so many instruments I lost count.
He jammed.
He flowed into Classical music.

Mostly, he believed every single kid could become a musician.

And so he set out to do just that.
His first motley group of 3rd graders attempted the recorder.
They practiced and adjusted and considered learning notes.
Meanwhile, he jammed with the kids who wished for a garage band in the upper grades.
He guided beginning band kids.
He created a choir.

He listened to kids who had dreams.

And he dreamed.
B-I-G

Only two years into this job, he wished out loud:

Our students are going to sing at Disneyland. 

Huh?
Did he see different kids than we did?
Was he best friends with someone at the Magic Kingdom?

Pretty sure that you have to be on the A Team to get to do that.

But he prepared his students, sent in an audition tape and got accepted.
Dang.

Now, when that is happening at your school, you're happy for those kids.
But you're not really sure your kid can be one of those.

Our family...we have nice people and we are definitely good fans...but music?
Not our strong suit.
Zero musicians.
Anywhere.
Zero singers.
Not counting the shower or the car, of course.
[I rock that.]

So, my kid tells me after playing the recorder that she wants to do band...
and I support her...
rent the clarinet and smile.

Because I think I know the way this story goes.

Only I don't.

Once a week, she grabs her clarinet case and heads to school early and in a few weeks, 
she's reading music!

She's whistling.
She's singing in the shower...and around the house.
She starts looking up songs online.


This becomes normal.

And we just go with it...because, you know, you never know.
And the Disneyland gig is coming around again...
and well, maybe your kid can sing in it.

So she trots off to choir and brings back candy to sell, and songs to sing and finally a permission slip.

It seems that we will be going to Disneyland.

And poof!
Something I could never picture before now enters my line of sight.

Disneyland.
We make our way to California Adventures.
We find the Monsters, Inc. ride...
we see a stage...
and yes, there they stand.


This is real.

This 4th grader of mine is up there.
Singing and harmonizing and holding notes.

I've heard her group sing...but this is different.

"I felt the music like a physical thing; it didn't just sit in my ears, it flowed through me, around me, made my senses vibrate." -- JojoMoyes from Me Before You

Those words.right.there.

It was a waterfall...
droplets of sound landed on my body...
tears sprang to my eyes.

The words they sang kept circling around me like an embrace:

Let every heart be filled with music...
it's a never ending gift that circles back again.

Take my hand and sing with me.
Music builds a bridge -- it can tear down a wall.
This is why we sing.
Take my hand and sing with me.
Share the joy, find a friend.

Live your life out loud.
Let your voice be heard...if you dare.


The music teacher, Mr. S to the kids...paused and explained about dreams and America and how we live in a place where anybody can dream...

and then he handed the stage over to an 8th grader.
She wrote a song.
And Mr. S. -- with all that he has going on -- stopped what he was doing and listened to that song.
Valued those words.
Honored that dream.
Supported that student in the biggest way that he could...
his choir sang back up for her.

Singing behind her and through her wisps of hope and future,
these back up students shared the dream too.

What kind of teacher takes his shining moment and turns the spotlight onto his student?

Someone who is the business of teaching hope...
not just music.

Someone who can see what hasn't been...
who can visualize great accomplishments for any child.
Who believes in his students. 


                                                

Mr. S. had all sorts of students sing solos.
So many had a chance to shine.

But this moment...that's was the one where I just sunk into the words and the transformation that was happening right before my eyes...

"What would happen, if we tried?
Could we spread our wings...and learn to fly?
And together we could see that the world is ours...
we could shine like stars...
we can dream.
ooooohhhhoooo
We can dream.
ooohhhoo
We can dream.
ooohhhooo
We can dream."

We can dream.

In this world that is busy telling you to be sensible,
and to hurry things up,
and squish all those feelings underground,
we have Mr. S....
actively building bridges to opportunity
and chances
and dreams.

He offers the chance to dream
and then builds the staircase...
one step at a time...
bit by bit.

This is no joke.
No Easy Street.

Skill +Practice +Determination +Personal Investment = Dreams Coming True

But Mr. S. will be there.
Every step of the way.
Telling you what he sees...
and seeing what's never been.

Mr. S., there are no words.
Only great big sobs of joy...
tears of appreciation...
sighs of seeing something so beautiful that came to be because of your hard work.

In a little music room, day in and day out, 
during recess and before school,
you make it happen.

You're in the business of teaching
but you're also in the business of building.

Tonight, I'm grateful for the grace of a musician turned music teacher turned dream maker.

This sky full of stars...
what a heavenly view!

Thank you.




Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Dancing Between The Good Things



Today I had to run to the grocery store -- no food for dinner -- fill up my gas tank, take my bike in for its flat tire and quite a few other errands all at the end of the day.

The grocery store was my final stop.
My in-and-out-one.
My super quick - I can do this in 15 minutes one.

Nice try.

As I was walking and concentrating on that list in my mind, Jeff came up.

Jeff is one of those people that lives in my town but I only see in one place ever:
the grocery store.

I see him at all times of the day.
He hangs out at the grocery store.
He's older...usually has his black backpack in the cart along with one or two items.
The grocery store is his community.

Jeff is someone that some people avoid.

He's eccentric.
He's loud.
He's out there and just by talking to him he puts you out there too.

Before Patrick, I would have considered my grocery list more important than Jeff.

I would have felt uncomfortable...and hurried...and bugged by this guy.

But after Patrick, my heart cracked open in a way where now every little person on the planet counts.
There are no randoms.

I don't discount the interruptions.
The sideways detours.
The super bizarre roundabouts that life takes me on.

Because of Patrick, I've been talking to Jeff for years.
Saying hi at first.
Listening to his math stories -- because he is a math genius.
The rumor is that he was a high level math instructor somewhere.
Over the years, I've given him my address so he could write me a letter.
"You never have to write back. It's ok. I just like to have people to write to."

He's found out about my job with teachers and asks about them...or my family.

Seeing Jeff at the store is a spot of sunlight.
He makes me pause and helps me know what's important.

Often, he will say something that will soak into my heart like it was a parched slab of earth.

Tonight was one of the best.
I asked him how he was doing.

"Oh," he says, "I'm dancing between the good things."

I smiled.
He went on...letting me know that it is our choices that make our life.
Our attitude that determines if our life is good or bad.
That we can change the day even in the middle.

Just what my parched heart needed to rain down.

Dancing between the good things.
What if we did dance in the hard spots?
Instead of laying down...or curling up in a ball...or sitting alone through the crap...
what if we danced?

What if we believed in that deep down way of Jeff that the good things were mere dots that needed connecting? 
The blank space left for dancing?

*****

After his explanation about how having a positive attitude can make everything better.
He paused.
Suddenly, shy and embarrassed.

Like he had an invisible sand timer that suddenly ran out.

He looked up and said, "I should let you get shopping." 
"I'm practicing my social graces."

And with that, he abruptly turned his cart around and went off down the aisle.

Silly Jeff.
He doesn't need to practice any social graces.
He's dancing between the good things.
His grace is pretty obvious.

The rest of us might need some practice...but not Jeff.

Here's to dancing...
and living your life out loud.
Here's to beauty found in the grocery store...and grace freely given...
even late on a school night.