Habitual Gratitude

Living gratefully today, I enjoyed a peaceful  evening  outdoors with a relaxing fire and my family.  It also gave me an  opportunity  for some solitude and some  grieving  for Mary Jo later in the evening. Grief has a way of showing up and I try to honor it when it does. I don't want to forget my  sister  and her life and the difference she made. Points of Clarity 11 and 12:  11. My body is just a vehicle. The life in it is what counts. But I take care of both.  12. Drink lots of water. Then drink some more. I would like to think I have taken pretty good care of my body over my lifetime, but I drank too much and smoked for a few years, so there is that. I have always been active, and that has countered and repaired damage done, not to mention saving my sanity. As I age into my mid-50's and encounter what peri-menopause has to offer, I realize that my body is telling me there is a balance to all of this activity too. I am learning to cut back on miles, save step

Today I am grateful for a beautiful night to watch football and for embracing the range of emotions that come as Sam gets closer to full-fledged adulthood. Point of Clarity #10: "An open mind allows inspiration in." My sister Mary Jo's death was a direct hit in my life. A key loss. Since her death, I have thought about death and dying in new ways. Her illness and death opened my mind, even while it was straining my heart. Inspiration is generally considered a good thing, but it isn't always easy and it doesn't always equate with the easiest of feelings. Still, I can be grateful for this range of feelings, this depth of emotions. It beats numbness or complacency. I am already riding the roller coaster of motherhood I anticipate this year, Sam's senior year of high school. Last night was the opening game of his senior football season. It was a win for the Raiders, and also "First on the Turf" of the newly renovated field that has been home to l

Today I am grateful for cool sleeping weather and work days that are sanely paced. Point of Clarity #8: "You can't beat having a friend by your side." #9: "Faith and a pen can trump pain and despair. " My friend and former coworker Jenny is the friend I had by my side for many months in the thick of all things cancer. First, as we each faced our BC diagnoses a month apart, then the next months of surgeries, decisions, and treatment options pursued. Then, in the next year, the time we spent collaborating on our book idea and writing it. We both stretched ourselves as writers and supported one another. Our friendship was such a deep blessing at that time and remains one today. I was sharing conversation the last couple of days with two of my dearest recovery friends. Together, we share nearly 70 years of recovery between us. We have gained more ground than we've lost in those years, though between us we have had our share of challenges. Friends by my

Living gratefully today, I appreciate my sense of hearing and the songs that help me know both joy and sorrow. I am also thankful for endorphins. Point of Clarity #7: “Endorphins are free and very effective.” Nature's own pain and stress relievers. One of the "feel good" chemicals in our brains, they are mood altering in a healthy way. Sure, I may be hooked on them, but they won't kill me like alcohol would have. A bulk of mine are generated in the footfalls of my runs, but I also walk, bike, and do some strength training and targeted exercises. These babies work, never failing to help boost my energy and mindset, even when I might have to push myself out the door. They helped me when I was recovering from surgeries and on my worst post-chemo days. Even if all the further I could go was a couple blocks walking slowly, or as I did my physical therapy to regain my arms' range of motion post-mastectomy. There was something healing about the left/right bilater

Today I am grateful for the beauty and awe of the crescent moon in the early morning sky, and for the faith I have in a Higher Power/Great Spirit. The guidance provided leads me to a sense of balance I cannot attain on my own. In looking at and considering what to write about Point of Clarity #6, I have many emotions, some of the deepest and most true about all that I lost and all that I gained as I moved through three different surgeries during the months of my active cancer treatment. Point #6 is: “I can live without my breasts. Just don’t take my heart and soul.” This one has been affirmed and validated abundantly in the last 10 years. Having my breasts removed brought relief because I still had cancer in my right breast after two previous attempts to remove it. It brought relief because keeping them would have kept fear and monitoring at a more heightened level. I check my scars and the lymph nodes under my arms. The cancer in my right breast was close to my chest wall. I s

Today I am grateful for safe travels, laughter, patience, meaningful conversations, quiet. Happy Birthday to our grandson Aaron! We enjoyed spending his 2nd birthday with him, his parents Arthur and Alyssa, and maternal grandma Donna on Saturday. There is nothing like the joy-filled laughter of a toddler. A couple of ways Aaron shared his with us were as Arthur chased him in a playful game of hide and seek, and as he made his way down a slide at a park. Smiles all around. When it comes to cancer, no laughing matter for sure, levity is still possible. The toughest times and heightened pain and fear still can’t block the natural tendency we have to laugh, to lighten the burdens of grief, worry, heaviness, even if for a moment. Those moments matter and they help us endure. In the thick of my own cancer treatments and surgeries, I recall some humor--inside jokes--shared between my husband Darcy and I, and between my friend Jenny and I. A bit of dark humor perhaps. If you haven't

Living gratefully today, I am appreciative of the work of meditation and the results it yields. I am also appreciative of the cool air, with a hint of my favorite season around the corner. This was meant to be Friday's post, and I usually take Saturdays off, but Internet issues yesterday morning and exhaustion last evening have me right here, right now. Point #4: Gratitude is a good pair of glasses to wear. It makes everything look better. In the midst of surgeries, chemo treatments, hair loss, fears and uncertainties, scars, and much more, continuing the gratitude practice I had already been doing for over a decade was vital. It made day-to-day living and recovery from what was being thrown my way by a cancer diagnosis possible. It also quieted the irrational fear and other detrimental emotions that I was known to manufacture in my own mind as well. Let me be clear. Rational fear is normal, especially with a cancer diagnosis. I am referring to the mind swirl and futile spi

Living gratefully today, I am soothed by early morning quiet and motivated by ongoing transformation. Point of Clarity #3:  "Having to consider my own mortality helps me cherish my life." This point of clarity has done some significant evolving lately. I have gotten my closest look yet at mortality in the last couple of years. Mom going into a nursing home. Her frailty and dementia advancing. My sister Leonice being diagnosed with cancer. My dear friend Sheila's daughter dying by suicide. Mary Jo getting a terminal diagnosis. It stands to reason that as we age we face our mortality, and the mortality of others, in new ways. When my dad died, I was 33. My life had just opened up in significant ways, Newly married, a stepmom, new job, new home. I grieved his sudden death then. I continue to grieve and miss him twenty years later, but not in gut-grabbing ways. My own cancer diagnosis was a gut-grabber, demolishing my youthful sense of security at age 42. Watching M

Today I am grateful for carbonation and coffee, but not in the same beverage. :-) Point #2 from "17 Points of Clarity" is "For me, fear of the known is less than fear of the unknown."  In my own cancer experience, this stemmed from making it through surgeries and procedures, waiting for pathology results, facing my first chemotherapy treatment. There was significant fear in my first surgery and being put under. Would I wake up? Significant fear in the waiting for reports that would tell us just how scary, or not, my cancer was. Had it spread to my lymph nodes? There was a vast unknown in wondering how I would feel when poisons were pumped into my body to help kill cancer cells. Would I experience nausea? I used plenty of faith on a daily basis to make it through those fearful times. I still do. The waiting was always the hardest. Once things got underway, once there were some answers, I could move forward and face the fear. A lurking fear that began when

Living gratefully, I appreciate my job and all the people I come in contact with. I am also grateful for meditations that help me feel rested. I have the number 17 on my mind as I move closer to the starting line of my seventeenth marathon. The number 17 emerged significantly in my cancer surgeries, treatment, and the months following. *July 17, 2008 surgery #1, lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy (fear peaks and subsides) *December 17, 2008 surgery #3, bilateral mastectomy (relief!) *May 17, 2009 first post-cancer half-marathon (unfettered!) *October 17, 2009 first post-cancer full marathon, and the first that my husband Darcy and I finished              side-by-side (Other than my first-ever marathon finish, this one is tops!) I don’t know how many more marathons I will run, but I knew I wanted to get to this number. I am further motivated and inspired by another special 17... my son Sam is 17 now. As I head to this marathon starting line he is heading into his senior year.

Living gratefully today, I embrace the sorrow of loss and the joy in love. Today is my sister Mary Jo's birthday. She would have been 62. It will be two months ago tomorrow that she died of metastatic breast cancer. August 15, 1957- June 16, 2019. That was the length of Mary Jo's foot race, her earthly existence. Her presence remains, as vibrant at times as her big smile and her big heart. The threads she wove into my life and the lives of so many are lasting and deep. Sibling threads are especially endearing and indelible. Grief comes and goes, ebbs and flows, sometimes expected, sometimes unexpected. Sometimes it feels like a churning and a trudging. At other times it feels like an unburdening and a peace. Peace because Mary Jo knows peace from her suffering. And sometimes this range happens within seconds. I expected the grief to surface and flow today. It is very fresh and intense on this anniversary of her birth, still so close to the time of her death. This pi

Today I am grateful for a pleasant phone conversation with my Aunt Norma Jean, a run even if it was short, and connecting with others through gratefulness. Yesterday I wrote about practicing just doing and being "good enough." There is such liberation in this. A freedom. New energy and insights. I have been applying it in different ways in various areas of my life. From cleaning my house, to composing an email, to completing numerous work tasks. I remind myself of what I wrote yesterday: "This is not slacking, it's sanity." Decades of overdoing and making sure things are better than "good enough" and fighting my inner critic about how I am "not good enough" won't be tossed out just like that. It will take devoted time, concerted effort. We are making progress though. Freedom grows in tiny increments, and sometimes in "ah-ha!" moments. One of the beautiful things about "good enough" is the energy it conserves. E

Living gratefully today, I connected with the expansive universe by noticing the morning stars. I also give thanks for the recovery connections I have and how they reinvigorate my own recovery work. As I continue to transform and age, growing up in ways for the first time, I grapple with what overdoing, overwork, and overthinking have all done to me. Some of what I avoided in my busyness I am now facing, and the view is changing. Awe more defined. Vulnerability more genuine. It is hard work. And it is the best work. "Never good enough" is evolving into "good enough" in many ways that are making a significant difference. The more personal stuff isn't meant for this public blog, but I can talk about "good enough" here in a way that others who have grappled with "never good enough" and perfectionism and workaholism can all relate to. How about just doing a task well enough to be done with it and move on? Instead of finding one more thing

Today I am grateful for the gifts that come from recovery from alcoholism. They are many. I am also grateful for random reasons to pause and appreciate the ordinary. I am not a regular church-goer, but I went yesterday. Our church's service was outside in the parking lot before we had our annual picnic. The sermon was about the best gifts we receive. I was sitting next to one of mine... my son Sam. And another one, my husband Darcy, was up in front doing his deacon duties. The gift of a healthy family is not a given, it's a treasure. I appreciated my senses of hearing and touch, as I listened to the passing traffic and felt the cool air on my skin. I seem to be getting some different menopausal symptoms lately, so the coolness was  particularly welcome. As our small congregation, out of our usual elements and without the louder organ, sang hymns more timidly, I appreciated Sam's meager efforts next to me. At least he was joining in. I was brought back to my youth, sta

Today I am grateful for my siblings and what connects us, past and present. I am also grateful for the wisdom of "one step at a time" and the many ways it can be applied in my life. Living gratefully is a choice, and it is one I am committed to. I have no regrets about this. It has been the most transformative action in my life over the last 25 years. The following quote reminds me of my choice: "May I understand that the choice between complaint, indifference,  and gratitude is mine at every single moment of my life."  Pierre Pradervand If I apply this idea to the long training run I did yesterday, here is how it could have played out. I could have complained about the rain, my tight quads, the return of some humidity, the locked public bathrooms, and more. The long run would have felt longer, the muscles tighter, the humidity more heavy.  It would have been pretty difficult to be indifferent to running while I was actually running, but I could h

Today I am grateful for the cool air that needs the comfort of my favorite sweatshirt and that it tells me my favorite season--fall--is not too far away. I am also grateful that in a moment of pause yesterday I saw a monarch butterfly and a hummingbird in close proximity to one another and to me, and we were all enjoying our backyard. That brings appreciation for Darcy and his work to keep our yard beautiful and inviting. Inefficient thinker. I used that phrase the other day and it keeps coming back around. In itself that is not an inefficient thought. It’s a very liberating lesson I keep learning more deeply. Better yet, I keep feeling it more genuinely. Overthinking and overdoing lead to under feeling. I welcome the emotions. Besides being accurate, "inefficient" isn’t nearly as harsh as what I have been known to say about my enemy brain. Things like "Stupid!" "You should know better." "Don’t you have this figured out yet?" My mind isn

Living gratefully today, I am relishing the cool, pre-dawn air and light. Pause and just be in this moment for a moment Lisa. This is a good and frequent reminder for me. I am also so grateful I got to see my college friend Kirsten yesterday. We have remained in touch on and off over the decades, but neither of us could even remember the last time we saw each other in person. Long time, no see. It was great reconnecting, getting caught up on our families and our own lives. Life has taken us both on twists and turns and then landed us back in the same part of the country. The twists and turns for each of us have often been good and brought joy, but others have been challenging and painful. Some sought after, others unexpected. Long time, no see. Great to reconnect. I pondered long time, no see a bit further as I pondered living gratefully this morning. Long time, no see my hands in front of me, writing, composing, working. Pause. Here is a gift I often take for granted. Long

Today I am grateful for a healthy perspective on work and an enjoyable time with my friend Betsy last evening. I hope the healthy perspective prevails into the new school year. And it is always nice to see a good friend. As I drove to work, and then later to visit Betsy, traffic issues confronted me. Traffic issues will happen, especially in the summer and at the height of road construction season. It reminds me of that often repeated joke around here: There are two seasons in Minnesota--winter and road construction. Various construction and utility projects are narrowing my options to get to school. Detours can change from day to day. Yesterday, instead of following the marked detour I thought I could find my own way. I couldn't. But I did travel some new streets and I wasn't late for anything anyway. When I left work for another part of the Cities, I not only hit some road construction, but also rush hour. I appreciated that I had some flexibility with my timeline, th

Living gratefully today, I say thank you for a good visit to the dentist yesterday, meaning "See you in six months." Thank you to my efficient hygienist and modern dental technology too. I am grateful for lunch with my friend Candy, a phone conversation with my friend Sheila, and time with recovery friends yesterday too. Connections matter. Consider this quote: "Think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world." Miyamoto Musashi Musashi was a Japanese swordsman and philosopher who lived in the early 1600's. His words certainly still are wise, and entirely applicable, 400 years later. If you would like regular thought-provoking words about gratefulness, I encourage you to sign up to receive the "Word for the Day" at  gratefulness.org .  You will get a daily email.  Think lightly of myself? I am a heavy, inefficient thinker who gets spun up more often than I would like to admit. I am making progress learning to be a lighter thinker and

Today I am grateful for stability in many forms in my life, and for a willingness to work on the areas where more stability is needed. I am picking up again that seeming contradiction I wrote about yesterday. Clouds and sun. Joy and pain. If we never knew the joy of love and happiness, we wouldn’t feel the grief and heartaches of loss. And we wouldn’t make it back out of the heaviness of grief. I went to a memorial service for Janine yesterday afternoon. She was someone I knew from breast cancer support group and the Voices of Hope DVDs project. It would have been her 66th birthday yesterday, but she didn’t make it. The ravages of metastatic breast cancer ended her life, like they ended my sister Mary Jo’s life less than two months ago. I attended the service with four other women from our support group. Between us, we have over 70 years of survivorship. And still, we just get today. That’s all. I have watched the Voices of Hope videos  again in recent days, after not watching

Living gratefully today, I appreciate being a mom and a grandma. In these roles, I learn new ways to live and to experience joy. Have you ever noticed how clouds make a sunrise or sunset more stunning? It’s the same way that grief and sadness allow joy to come at a deeper level. There has been tragic local and national news the last couple of days. Car crashes. Mass shootings. There are services and visitations to attend because people die of cancer and of complications of old age. But today it’s about joy. The joy of grandsons. We got to spend time with both Leo and Aaron yesterday afternoon, and Aaron spent the night. We found joy in: -Running through sprinklers. -Biking like a big boy. -Swinging with a "whee!" -Watching a dragonfly, getting closer and closer. -Enjoying pizza together. -Cousin helping cousin. -Picking dandelions. -Outstretched arms wanting to be picked up. -Smiles on faces. -Love in hearts. What have been some recent experiences of jo

Today I am grateful for my five senses and for the happy memories of summer days in my childhood. My five senses help me create memories in the here and now and they help me recall memories. Summer days in my childhood carry some rich memories. The smell of freshly cut hay. The sound of the ball hitting the bat in a game of 500. The taste of Kool-Aid on a hot afternoon. The sight of ripe raspberries ready to be picked. The touch of cool air coming through an open window as we slept. Memories can hide, and they can be drawn out. Memories can evoke a wide range of emotions and open doors for continued growth. Regardless of our age. Then new memories are shaped with our new perspective. All of these random thoughts were sparked by this quote from the poet Rumi: "What is love? Gratitude. What is hidden in our chests? Laughter. What else? Compassion."  Our physical chests carry the vital organs of our hearts and lungs. Blood and air that nourish us. My chest used

Living gratefully today, I appreciate the morning's first sip of coffee and the other creatures and critters that share space with us. Squirrels are one of those critters. They can be pesky, but they are fun to watch. We saw a black one at the University of Nebraska last week. We see white or albino ones fairly regularly in our neighborhood. Last evening Darcy and I took a walk with our own critter-our dog Oliver.  We watched a white squirrel at play with another squirrel, a typical brown one. The white one took off across the fairway on one of the holes of the golf course we live by. The color contrast made for a fun little show. The other took off after it for a bit and then stopped. It made Darcy and I wonder what the story was. Even squirrels have stories. Every person and every living thing has a story. By honoring and telling our own stories, we open the door for others to do the same. By honoring all living things, by showing respect and kindness, we take better care