Habitual Gratitude

Today I am grateful for precious memories and precious new moments that await. I am also grateful for new experiences. It is a difficult time and I feel a vulnerability that I have not felt before. Yet, being vulnerable is a key to transformation. I can embrace the grief I feel while at the same time experience the joy of the love my family shares. I can cry tears of loss and sadness, while smiling at pictures that capture fond memories and healthy faces. This could be a time prone to regretting the past or fearing the future too. Mixed emotions often lead to ruminating and then missing the present moment. So I appreciate these words from Brother David Steindl-Rast: "At any moment the fully present mind can shatter time and burst into now."  And I appreciated the rhythmic stride of our dog Oliver and the jingle-jangle of his collar and tags as we walked this morning. I love that dog and he loves my family and I unconditionally. I gave thanks for the simple con

Living gratefully today, I appreciate my husband Darcy and son Sam, as well as early morning quiet. I have known many people who have died of cancer, but most were just acquaintances or someone else’s relative. Two of my dad's sisters died of cancer, my aunts Rita and Rosella, who I never had the chance to know well. They died at 57 and 63. Ironically, Rosella, who was Mary Jo's godmother, also died of breast cancer. I have thrown out statistics at various times in my writing, to emphasize my point or to raise awareness. My sister Mary Jo, who died a week ago from metastatic breast cancer (MBC) is now one of the 40,000 that will be counted as casualties of MBC in 2019. That number looks and feels so much different with my sister’s smiling face looking back at me in a photo from her healthy days. Cancer is a horrible disease. It wracks and ravages bodies and it breaks hearts. It creates pain and suffering. It cuts lives short. I hate cancer and what it does. My sister

Living gratefully today, I appreciate the connections I continue to make with others in so many different ways in these first days since my sister Mary Jo's death. It is a bittersweet day for her daughter Rena, on this her 30th birthday, and for her husband Clay and many others as they mark the first anniversary of the motorcycle accident that killed his brother Jahn. Such pain and loss. Dead. Killed. So final. And yet, the sun came up again today. This photo I took this morning captured a moment that was never before and never will be again: Just like there will never be another person just like Mary Jo, or Jahn, or any other loved one you and I are calling to our own minds and hearts. Yet, it is likely that all of us will wake up again tomorrow with the opportunity to capture moments of grace, goodness, and gratitude.  At first thought, grief doesn't fit in the same sentence as grace, goodness, and gratitude.  On second thought though, with willingness and sur

Today I am grateful for the hummingbird that graced me with a brief show in our yard this morning. I am also grateful for connections that transcend understanding. As I grieve the finality of my sister Mary Jo's life on earth, I am reminded of her presence in many ways. Pictures of a younger, smiling, healthy big sister. Her voice message wishing me a happy birthday last summer, saved on my phone. The vivid memory of holding her hands as I said my goodbyes to her. I treasure the connections, the memories, her presence that I can still feel. It is all painful and new, but it is also grace and goodness. Connections of grace and goodness. Look for some today. Create some more.

Today I am grateful for the kindness of others, for gratefulness shared among fellow humans, and for in-person conversation with my friend Betsy. I don't get to see her often and really appreciated our time together last evening. On our travels last week we went through a place near and dear to my heart. The Spirit Lake-Okoboji-Spencer area of northwest Iowa was my home from 1992-1998. It is where my recovery was truly launched, even though I arrived there three years sober. A raging workaholic and dry drunk at the time, I knew some things needed to change or I would drink again. I embraced recovery and got connected to others on the same path. It made all the difference then and continues to make all the difference now. I also made good friends in the school and community where I taught. I started graduate school while there. I met my husband Darcy in Okoboji. It is one of those places that holds far more pleasant memories than difficult ones for me on this life's journe

Living gratefully today, I appreciate the love and support of family and friends, and a patient and loving Higher Power, at a most difficult time. My sister Mary Jo, age 61, died of metastatic breast cancer on the morning of June 16, Father's Day 2019.  I take some comfort in believing Dad helped Mary Jo reach a place of peace. She has known so much pain, fear, and suffering. She now has the peace I prayed for her to have for so long. She is survived by her husband Clay, daughters Whitney and Rena, two sons-in-law and seven grandchildren.  And I have an emptiness. A gaping hole that I haven't experienced before. I have been grieving for Mary Jo for a long time, as her cancer progressed and her physical health weakened. This is a new and different feeling of loss.  I posted this picture below in April of 2018, after my seven sisters and I spent some precious time together in Colorado.  My hand is the one with the green bracelet. From there, clockwise and

Today I am grateful for the sweetness of blueberries and the way the morning sun plays off of the trees and grass in our yard.  I am also grateful for park time with our grandson Leo. This is a recent quote from "Word for the Day" at www.gratefulness.org  : Make a gift of your life and lift all . . . by being kind, considerate, forgiving,  and compassionate  at all times, in all places, and under all conditions,  with everyone as well as yourself. This is the greatest gift anyone can give. (David R. Hawkins)  I don't know what Dr. Hawkins was thinking when he wrote this, but my first thought when I read it was "impossible!"  I am too human to achieve this ideal. And then it hit me. That's the point. That's why the quote struck me. No one is perfect. Do the best you can with what you have today. It is a good target to aim for. More kindness, consideration, compassion and forgiveness that I might have otherwise missed showing. These le

Living gratefully today, I appreciate the calming practice of morning meditation and my renewed commitment to it. I am also grateful for our dog Oliver as he sits and watches me now. The picture of the beautiful blooming irises below are the result of a transplant. They are from my mother-in-law Marlene's previous home--a home that is now gone, moved out of the way for a road construction project. Darcy transplanted these irises in our backyard. It took a couple of years for them to reach this full glory, but we sure have enjoyed them in recent days. So much in nature and in our own lives requires patience and time. Many things are not meant to be rushed, yet our society and culture are increasing speed in unhealthy ways. So I think about these transplanted irises, and I think about Darcy and I transplanting to Minnesota 19 years ago and the many wonderful gifts that have come to our family and our lives since. There have been plenty of challenges too, but we have love of fam

Today I am grateful for working appliances, like our washer and dryer. I am also grateful for laughter just when you need it, laughter to affirm our humanness and our connections. I took off for a bike ride yesterday morning with several things on my mind. No surprise there. I often have several things on my mind. Biking, running, walking all help me sort through those various things. Like other healthy practices I do, some days I am more tuned into the actual practice and other days I am more going through the motions. That is the beauty of habits and discipline though. They become instilled in my routine and I make time for them. Some days that will be all it is: putting the time in to practice. On other days, clarity may come through loud and clear. And on other days, deep emotion may bubble up and out. What does any of this have to do with the title of today's post?  On that bike ride yesterday, I paused at the beautiful waterfall I most often go right by, having passed i

Today I am grateful that my two drinks of choice are water and coffee, in that order. I am also grateful for the brief visit by a hummingbird that my husband Darcy and I just enjoyed. The potential to experience joy is always available to me, to you. Even at the toughest times. It simply requires an open heart and mind, a pause. I say simply, but we both know it isn't always easy to do. I was visiting with some fellow recovering folks and one of them brought up the several joys she had noticed just that morning. Pauses and surrendering had opened the door to these gifts. Shortly after, I was walking in our beautiful river town, down along the Mississippi. The weather was shifting, which was fine with me. It had been hot and humid for a couple days and now the breeze was up and clouds and rain were moving through. I stood and watched a barge go by. I noticed the rolling waves of the river. I was buffeted by the increasing winds, but also buffered by the pure joy of that cool

Living gratefully today, I appreciate the conversations I had with my sisters Ann and Aileen yesterday and the movie "Rocketman " that Darcy and I enjoyed last evening at our local theater. I have soft music, Elton John songs, and some "d" words on my mind and heart this morning. My brother-in-law Clay, my sister Mary Jo's husband, has been playing soft music for her. She likes it and it's calming. She also likes Van Morrison, Elton John, CCR and plenty of others. Ann lives near Jo and can visit a couple times a week. Aileen lives farther away from Jo than I do. I appreciate Ann's first-hand accounts of her recent visits with Jo and Clay, and my sister Danita's as well. Aileen and I discussed how hard it is to be far away from our dying sister at this time. It brings a detachment that can be okay at times, but right now I would rather be able to participate in and be a witness to this very difficult and very profound time in Mary Jo's life.

Today I am grateful for the fragrant smells of late spring and early summer that I enjoyed on this morning's walk I shared with our dog Oliver. I can't name all of the sources of the fragrances, but I can sure appreciate them. The other night after I mowed some lawn and he helped Papa pull some weeds, our grandson Leo and I went over to the nearby park to shoot some hoops. It was just the two of us, two balls, and those touchy, bouncy rims with somewhat tattered nets that you most often find at park courts. We took turns shooting, chasing after the balls, chatting a little. We definitely missed far more than we made, but we both had the satisfaction of a couple of "swooshes" at least. It evoked more pleasant childhood memories for me, just like the mowing had. I spent many hours shooting hoops both indoors and outdoors at home growing up. We played countless games of "H-O-R-S-E" and I spent many more hours working on my shot. It paid off. I was a fairl

Today I am grateful for cool morning air and quiet.  I am also grateful for the disciplines in my life that help set me free. Last evening I shared in the lawn mowing duties with my son Sam. I have always enjoyed mowing lawn, but have done less of it the last few years as Sam has been our primary mower. As I mowed yesterday, I reminisced about mowing our large yard growing up on the farm. We always had push mowers and several pushers to share the work. We divided up our yard surrounding the house and in back of the house into several "plots" and we each took one or two. I am sure there were arguments over who got to mow what areas, some being easier and obstacle-free compared to others, but I don't recall too much fighting. I think my siblings and I in general liked this chore and the progress we could make in short time. In my mind's eye, I can picture a young Lisa pushing one of those mowers on the side of the house near the chicken coop and the basketball hoo

Living gratefully today I appreciate citronella candles and yogurt. Simple. I also appreciate completing nineteen years at my current school and the pleasant 8th grade graduation event last evening. So many students, parents, colleagues have touched and enriched my life in so many ways this year and every year. In my heart and in my prayers today I am holding up many others. Those impacted by suicide, cancer, violence. Those facing health challenges and awaiting procedures and results. Not so simple. I was thinking about one of the questions I posed in yesterday's post: Am I a fountain of gratefulness or fear? Both will flow, but which is stronger? If I face fear with faith, it is less paralyzing that way. Gratefulness is a catalyst. Profound. Living gratefully yesterday, I looked for harmonious connections and I found some. I shared harmony with fellow drivers by following the rules of the road. Sharing harmony with nature is as easy as letting an insect do its job instead

Today I am grateful for safe travels for my loved ones and I this weekend and for the joy of family celebrations to bring us together.  I appreciated time with dear friends to start the weekend and with dear family to finish it. On my travels home yesterday, these two water towers got me to stop and take pictures. I drive through these two southeastern Minnesota towns on my way to and from my family in northeast Iowa. I stayed longer than my husband and son, so I was traveling home by myself. As I drove through Harmony, I thought about how harmony is a goal to aspire to. It is my personal aspiration in my own heart and mind. It is what I wish to share and create with those I care about, though I know my words and actions aren't always harmonious. It is a good watch word. And it is certainly a goal that I can strive for in my wider interactions at work, in my community, as a citizen of my nation and this planet. Harmony comes easier when we try easier. A few miles down t