Baby Steps

Overwhelmed with going back to work after vacation, with finding child care so I can write more, with the impending back to school transition, I felt paralyzed. But as I watched Daniel taking one teeny step at a time, I remembered the concept of baby steps. Every day I see him trying, learning, growing more confident. He’s not leaping tall buildings in a single bound, but with every step he gets closer to walking on his own.

This morning, I tried to apply that idea to my work. Step one - I blocked off some time for writing. Step two – I looked at the outline for my second novel. Step three – I met my small daily writing goal. Just taking those three steps helped me to breathe more easily.

I have to remind myself that my job is to do the footwork, to trust that it is enough, and to enjoy the journey. As long as I’m moving forward, no matter how slowly, I am doing my job.

What helps you when you feel overwhelmed?

Plotting My Escape from Autopilot

Chris Brady

Our vacation getaway.  (Glad I don't mow this lawn.)

I struggled to come up with a topic for the blog this week.  I guess you could call it writer’s block.  But then I wondered if it’s more like a living block. Looking back at the last four weeks of my life, I wasn’t jazzed to write about anything I had experienced.

I haven’t had any wonderful life moments like Mary seems to encounter.

I’m not about to retire like Carol, excited about the new possibilities.

And I am not living with a year-old son like Julie, where every minute brings discovery.

For some time now, I’ve noticed that my life is more like a lake than a river. If there was a way to track footprints in my house there would be this little trail that happens every day.  Same with work and too often, weekends.

Vacations help, but they are way too short. Bernie and I got away for a week in a beautiful place recently, and just being somewhere else was energizing.  But the buzz was gone as I entered our driveway on arriving home. It was like I got back on a conveyor belt and my life went into autopilot.

Of course, I can schedule more “vacation moments” in my life: fun with family and friends, experiencing culture, and getting off my butt to exercise.  I just find myself nesting more than ever:  reading, walking the dog, puttering in the garden, and just being in the moment.  

Not exciting, nothing to write about, comforting in its own way, but not as fascinating as my Facebook friends’ lives appear to be. Then I think about people I care about who are seriously ill, struggling through unemployment, caring for a dying parent, or stuck in a bad relationship. 

“Count your blessings,” my inner voice tells me.  (That inner voice is always right.)

Knowing there is a problem is the first step toward recovery.  I promise to have an adventure (or two) between now and the next blog post.

What about you?  Is your life on autopilot?

What are you doing to make life more memorable?

Small Gifts, Large Impact

A month ago, I wrote about saying yes to help. This morning, as I tried to get myself, my son and our belongings (diaper bag, purse, coffee, sippee cup) out of the car and into a meeting, a woman I know stopped and asked if I needed help. My first impulse, as usual, was to say no. Here’s the progress: I paused to think, then said yes. First I asked if she would just hold the bags while I took Daniel out of the car seat. Dismayed, late, flustered, I wrestled him out of the straps, and almost burst into tears when I saw that somehow in that process, his pants had come off. Elizabeth said, “I’m not leaving until we are all inside.”

This may sound like a small act of kindness, but to me, it was gold. I realized just how frazzled I was, and felt flooded with gratitude for her calm presence. I really needed someone to just stand with me while I unloaded the car, loaded the stroller, wheeled it to the door. I didn’t know how much I needed that until she offered. After the meeting I hugged her and told her how much she had helped me, and I saw that my gratitude helped her. What a beautiful feedback loop that is.

We live next door to a church that has an AA meeting every day at 12:30. Very often, I come home sometime in that hour and can’t find parking. One day, my next door neighbor saw me looking for parking and said, “Julie, you can park in my driveway whenever that happens.” My instinct was to say, “No, no, I’m fine.” Then I thought about lugging my 20 pound child and my groceries all the way down the block, and I said, “Thank you.” I parked in his driveway today, and came home calm, relieved, thankful, instead of hot, tired, grumpy. Accepting help is really improving my life. I recommend trying it.

Have you accepted a small kindness recently? How did it affect you?

Say Yes to Help

Two weeks ago, Carol, one of the other Broads, asked me if I wanted her to write an extra post this month, as I would be on vacation the week I usually write for this site. “No, no,” I said, “I’m sure I can handle one little blog entry.” Fast forward to this morning, when Chris emailed me to make sure I was okay as I hadn’t posted anything yet. Yes, dear readers, I am fine. Great, actually after a week’s vacation, except for a case of the Mommy Brain. (Is there a statute of limitations on blaming my son for forgetting things? If there is, don’t tell me.)

So I think my lesson of the day is that accepting help is good. Having an infant son, working part-time, writing, and running my household keeps my plate pretty full. At the moment, the balance feels okay. Daniel sleeping through the night, and napping, has improved things greatly, but sometimes, okay, often, I can’t do everything myself.

I heard someone say a few months ago that when they help someone else, they feel really good. This made me realize that maybe I’m not bothering someone by asking for help, but giving them an opportunity to feel good. I like that reframe. When I’m able to assist someone, I’m usually glad to do it. Sometimes I say yes when I should say no, but that also teaches me something, so really, I never lose by helping others.

A few months ago, as I left Trader Joe’s with a cart full of groceries and a screaming baby, a man materialized and offered to load the bags into my car. My first inclination was to decline, but instead, I said yes. I strapped the baby into his seat, and by the time I’d finished my assistant was wheeling the cart away, saying over his shoulder that he remembered those days. I imagine that stranger felt good about helping me, and I went home with a grateful heart, touched by the random act of kindness. I try to be kind as often as possible, so maybe I need to practice allowing other people to be kind to me.

How to Become a Runner

Many times in my life, I tried to make myself into a runner. Running has so many benefits--the exercise, the outdoors, the endorphins, but until a few years ago, I forced myself to do it, like taking medicine. Then I’d rebel for a while, claiming that I just didn't have "a runner's build," and try another form of cardio. Though I love to dance and surf, wherever I am, I can complete a good run (including stretching and cool down) in 45 minutes. That's hard to beat in efficiency or convenience.

How did I learn to like it? My husband, a serious runner, though he claims otherwise, told me his secret. He said when he's out of shape, he'll jog until he's tired, then walk awhile, then jog awhile, then walk. This had honestly never occurred to me. In my black and white thinking, I thought if I went for a run, I had to run the whole time, painful or not. I tried his method, and found that not only did I have more fun, but over time I began running more and walking less. One day I realized I had happily jogged three miles without stopping. Pretty awesome, huh?

Like anything, some days are better than others. Yesterday, I was a little stiff, a little slow, a little tired. So I walked a few times, and cut my run short. The miracle is that I felt okay about that. I had accomplished the main objectives—time outside, alone, with a raised pulse. (As a bonus, I had an inspiration for my novel too.) With running, as with writing, the trick seems to be encouraging myself to grow without pushing myself too hard. Yesterday I struck that balance well, other days not so much.

Carl’s theory of jogging, which might apply to life in general: Respect your limits, and know that if you keep trying, your limits will expand.

Simple, Life-changing Advice

Feeling really down recently, I told a fellow runner how I needed more exercise, but postpartum, my breasts felt too sore when I tried to jog. “Wear two bras,” she said. I felt that jolt of recognizing a simple and genius idea. Why had that never occurred to me?

That night, I went home, doubled up on sports bras, and ran giddy through the streets of Narberth, boobs firmly in place. I can’t easily express how much this advice has helped me. Though I have been walking a lot since Daniel was born—with and without he and the dog—walking just doesn’t provide the same benefit for me as jogging. I don’t run quickly or even very far, but when I resumed my 30 minute jogs last week, I realized just how much I had missed them over the past year.

Yes, running gives me energy, and those great endorphins, but also, the physical effort required to run somehow unleashes my imagination. Many of the scenes that ended up in my first novel appeared to me while running. Which I had forgotten until I ran last week and started seeing things for the new novel. Jogging through the cold, dark streets of my town, I could have cried with joy at having reclaimed something important, one of the best ways I keep myself healthy.

The next time I saw that runner I told her that someone should take out a billboard that says, “Wear two bras.”

What’s the best simple advice you’ve received? What would you like to put on a billboard?