I was looking through some of my old electronic folders in my computer and ran across this journal entry I typed in August of 2006. My kids were 5, 3-1/2, and 2, none of them in Elementary school yet. And the end of the summer--always a low point for me. I'm just run-down by that point.

Am I a control freak? Am I too selfish? I want to drink my coffee and start my day peacefully. I want my kids to play together, not fight every chance they get. I want them to talk to one another instead of dealing with everything through their hands. Continuously throughout my day I am breaking up fights, scolding one or all three, time-outs, creatively taking away privileges. And the crying. It seems to never stop. How can a mom listen to her three children cry so much and still maintain her composure? Did I not discipline them enough? Do I know exhibit enough love? Am I thinking about myself too much and what would make me happy?

Deep down I know that they are better off for having me at home and not working. They all 3 would be at daycare from 8-6 every day. They wouldn’t know each other as they do. Maybe they also wouldn’t fight this way. They are bored. I don’t do enough to entertain them. They watch too much TV. At least they sleep well.

Why do I feel so strong on some days and so terribly weak on others? What makes the difference? Is it my hormonal cycle? Is it what I ate or how much water I drank the day before? Is it how I wake up in the morning? What would happen if I turned off the TV right now? How long would it take for all hell to break lose? Is this mothering?

They are getting older. It’s getting easier. They will be reasonable some day. Some day. “Before you know it”. I feel like I’m hovering near the bottom right now and it’s hard to come up to a content level of existence. There is going to be something bad that happens that sends me plummeting…and I can’t see something so good happening that it will lift me up. So I can try to talk myself up onto the little cloud of happy mommydome, but I’m learning as hard as I try I don’t have full control over these things. And something bad will happen to push me back down. That is so negative. I know that doesn’t work. I know it is up to me to create my own happiness. Forget about the coffee. Forget about the peace. Take a deep breath and smile at the kids. Let them hug me and climb all over me. Then take your time. Be deliberate with your movements. Be selective with your words. Start rallying them up now so you’re not rushing. Take a deep breath. Look into their eyes and remember when they were babies.

And eat well today, drink lots of water, be very mindful at yoga, don’t try to do too much. Accept today for what it has to offer. And take another deep breath.

I found this as I was working on my 2010 goals. It's good for me to read. It's good for me to embrace that motherhood has not changed so much for me in those 3-1/2 years, and to look ahead 3-1/2 years when the kids are 12, 10-1/2, and 9--I could probably write the same journal entry. They'll be fighting, they'll be physical, I won't be in complete control of my environment. It will also be important for me to stop what I'm doing and let the kids climb all over me. I'll need to be mindful in yoga, and slow down, and look at my kids while smiling as I remember them as babies.

I'm curious to know--if you have little ones now, do you feel similarly? If your kids are a bit older, maybe middle-school aged, do I have it right?

My mantra for this year is "I'm already there." This is meant to remind me that I can't look into the future and say things are going to be better "when..." I am already there. Now is what matters, and my world looks exactly as it needs to look in order for me to be happy and content. If I remember that now, tomorrow is going to be so much better than I could imagine anyway.

peace, love, and retrospection...

I love to talk about how the Universe speaks to me and sends me messages that somehow explain events that happen in my life, or my mood, or what my next move should be. Sometimes it's a song that comes on my radio, or an unexpected phone call from an old friend, or a passage I read in a book I haven't picked up in a while.

What about the messages that seemingly tell me to stop what I'm doing, or refocus, or to not move forward? With children there always seems to be some emergency, some fire to put out, something that seems to take priority over anything I would want to do for myself. I guess that's the case if you have children or not. Why is that? Why is there such guilt or feeling of selfishness when it comes to being good to ourselves? It's wrong.

When my printer wouldn't work to print out invitations to a workshop I'm conducting, was the Universe telling me that I shouldn't market the event? Maybe I shouldn't even be holding this event at all!

Sometimes we need to look at those challenges as motivators to get us out of our comfort zone. Create a new way to translate what the Universe is saying. Putting out frustration and doubt will just bring that same energy back to me. I don't want that! If I conjure the spirit to overcome and the determination to achieve my goals and maintain my focus on the desired outcome, then all that positive energy is going to come back to me. Thinking of it that way makes an uncooperative printer seem so inconsequential. I called on a friend to help, and she did. What a gift to me, and to her. It feels good to know you have people you can count on in a pinch, and it also feels good to be that helpful person to someone else.

So from now on I'm going to have selective hearing when the Universe talks to me. I will gladly take those positive messages and allow them to nudge me forward along my path. But when I hear a message that is the equivalent of a flashing "proceed with caution" or a flat-out red light, I'm going to challenge myself to find the opportunity for growth or ingenuity or compromise in that situation. God, Goddess, the Universe--my own spirit--wants me to succeed. It's my own thoughts that can sabotage that and I won't allow that to happen.

peace, love, and bright green lights...

I'm trying to think of something in life that is as wonderfully forgiving as yoga. I just love that I can walk in to any yoga class anywhere and feel like I'm not being judged or laughed at. In fact, it's quite the opposite. A yoga class is one of those unique environments where you're alone, but also surrounded by supportive energy and connected to the people sharing the class with you. Well, now that I really think about that, I guess a yoga class isn't unique in that--that's life! It reminds me of a quote I jotted down while watching the movie "P.S. I Love You" the other day. "You're all alone no matter what. So now, all alone or not, you've got to walk ahead. Thing to remember is, if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too."

The whole idea behind yoga is that it's a personal experience. It's a body/breath/spirit practice each and every time you do it. I've been practicing yoga regularly for many years and I still can't always get my heels to the floor in downward facing dog. I'm a little bit lower in my split, but only a little bit. I'm much better at arm balances, but have so much room for growth. As my instructor was guiding us through class today she likened yoga to life in that it's in the challenge that we grow stronger. If our minds are wandering and we lose our focus then we need to push ourselves harder. Pull back on the inhale, go deeper on the exhale. And if it hurts, stop! Our bodies tell us when we've reached our limit and we need to listen.

I've realized that I've been daydreaming less the past six months or so. I used to gaze out my kitchen window and imagine I was doing dishes at my waterfront cottage, cleaning up after fixing a healthy snack of fresh seasonal fruit, preparing to jump in my kayak tied up right outside and go exploring. I'd like to think that I'm more mindful, being more present in the moment, but I'm still working on that. I think, however, that I have developed a greater sense of happiness with life as it is right now. I've been doing some things that are out of my regular routine, if you will. I traveled to Italy by myself for a week. I built a website and started a Feng Shui consulting business. I'm working on workshops and presentations. I'm pushing myself a little further and my mind hasn't had the opportunity to wander. Just like yoga!

And living in balance--that challenge and ease, that forward movement and rest--that's an aggressive goal! A body in motion stays in motion, but you have to listen when your body says it's had enough for now. When your kids or your husband say, "hey, we haven't seen you in a while", or when you look out your window and see your tulips have popped out of the ground and you wonder when spring arrived--you've got to listen, and breathe, and relax on the inhale. Those are those moments in between when we gain our strength and maintain our balance.

peace, love, and savasana...

I had a neat encounter today that I want to share. It's one of those seemingly arbitrary occurrences that has left me inspired and thoughtful. First, I must share a bit of the back-story, and I'll try to be brief and succinct.

My kindergartner came home with lice a few weeks ago. For anyone who has had to deal with these pests, you know it's not fun, for parent or child. It involves treatment that takes no less than 2 hours on short hair, then for me it was a trip to the laundromat to wash and dry everything in the house in hot water. Anything else needs to be bagged up and put away for two weeks. Then it's continuous laundry for weeks, re-treatment every 7-10 days...it's a nightmare. I have friends that went through it last year and I've realized that lice is something pretty much every mom is going to have to deal with at some point.

Three or four weeks later the pesky invaders have found their way to my third grader's head, and her hair is twice as long and three times as thick as my 5-year old. They were discovered on the evening my husband went on a 6-day vacation, so it's all on me. Pulling myself up by my bootstraps, we start the treatment (takes much longer on this mane of hair!), start the laundry, and start vacuuming everything. Momentum has taken over and I'm grateful for the lose schedule that comes along with my husband being out of town. Then the dryer broke.

I set the timer, pressed the button to make it start, and the button pops right back out. How, oh how, am I going to stay on top of this mess without a working dryer? Remembering when my washer was broken and I wound up paying a repairman $85 to literally tighten a screw on the lid, I thought I'd explore the issue myself. Ironically enough, I was talking to my husband on the phone from his cruise ship when I zapped myself. Not static electricity like my husband thought, a jolt of electricity shot through my body. Not fun. Not a huge deal, but not fun. Enough to make me call the repairman so I can keep this circus rolling.

When I called to set up the service call they tried to convince me that the dinosaur of a dryer might not be worth fixing. Not ready to shell out the hundreds of dollars for a new machine a week and a half after Christmas, I set up the call for today.

The repairman had a really cool accent, was probably in his early sixties, and was sort of handsome if I'm being honest. Turns out he was from some little country around the vicinity of Russia, Ukraine, and Poland. I'm always curious how these men, skilled with machines, end up at my doorstep. Where has their life path been that has led them to my house this particular day? Anyway, I led him to the laundry room and began explaining the problem.

Low and behold, I set the timer, pressed the button, and the damn dryer was working just fine. Button stayed in, everything sounded like normal, I couldn't believe it. Who in heaven is teasing me when I need to be doing laundry?! Why didn't I continue to check it throughout the day while waiting for this guy to show up? What is it with the washer and dryer that is sucking my dry, one service call charge at a time?

So with a grin on his face and that cool little accent, the repairman says:
"You are lucky. You are lucky, and I am lucky too. First you are lucky because you don't have a broken dryer anymore. Second you are lucky because you did not hurt yourself when you got shocked. I am lucky because I don't have to do work on your dryer. We are both lucky because we have God and God loves us."

At that moment I just opened my heart to what was happening. He was right. He was right by all accounts. He charged me $40 instead of the $60 trip charge and assured me if he had to come back to repair the dryer there would not be another trip charge. I understand that he works for a company that has overhead and was on a schedule and came to my house--to see me turn on my dryer. I do understand it. But instead of thinking about what I could have done with that $40 if only--if only what? Who knows why my dryer decided to start working again. All I know is I was standing there with a complete stranger in my laundry room talking about how God listens when you talk to him. And maybe it took me going through all that...heck, maybe even the lice, to really have that resonate with me.

I believe in God and I believe he listens, but I don't talk that much. Now, people believe in a lot of different things. The message I'm trying to get across is, in times of stress and chaos, we all need to slow down. We need to pause, and breathe, and ask for the guidance that we need. Whether it's a higher being or our own spirit...if we take the time to ask the question and then remain open to receiving the answer, it will come.

Today I wasn't asking why the kids have lice or why the appliances keep breaking down. I was asking how I make sense of the seemingly constant frustration and things not going according to plan. I was asking for guidance through these challenges so I can have peace in my nutty, whirlwind days. I was grateful to have this man knock on my front door today. And I'm grateful that my dryer works again. Next up--the electrician. A lamp blew up this evening and I've had it with my scary, shotty sockets. I wonder what I'll learn from him!

peace, love, and warm, fuzzy blankets just out of the dryer...

I have been doing a lot of thinking about ambition again. New Year's resolutions and all--looking forward 10 years, 5 years, a month from now. My good friend dictionary.com says that ambition is an earnest desire for some sort of achievement or distinction, desire for work or activity. It's so subjective though, and again that is partly due to what society affiliates with success. To attain a goal, no matter what that goal, if you work to achieve it, whether you succeed at doing so or not, you have to have some ambition.

Right now I feel like my goals are not so grand, but my ambitions are. Being a mom means at least some of my accomplishments are going to be tied in to my children, and that is serious business. But it's so important for me to think of myself as separate, and to work toward things that are for me and me alone. And because I take my job of raising these little ones so seriously, I am careful about setting my goals for myself too high. My gosh--what higher goal could a person have than to raise her children well? Who says big ambitions are powerful jobs or a beach house or to run a marathon? Living a balanced life is a big ambition in and of itself.

There is a story that is leading me to think through this a little deeper today. There is a young man born without eyes or the ability to move his arms or legs. He is a talented musician playing in the University of Louisville marching band even though he is in a wheelchair. His father goes to all the practices and games with his son, pushing his wheelchair through all the choreographed maneuvers on the field. He attends classes with his son so that he can have a college experience as much like the other students as possible. The father changed his job so he could work nights and accompany his son during the day. When I read the interviews I learn that this father is happy, and fulfilled, and proud.

I'm sure this man had goals and dreams before his son was born. To have a child with a disability means life as you imagined it is changed. Honestly, I think to have a child period changes life in ways you can't imagine. But this father is so selfless and gives all he has to make his son's life as good as it can possibly be. Is he unambitious for himself? Did he abandon the long term goals he had set or did he postpone them for a later time? Did the meaning of everything just change through his experience with his son, this shining spirit that seems to know no limits? If he is happy and content and proud, then he is successful. His state of being is one to admire.

For that father to be fulfilled and to live each day knowing that he is doing what his heart tells him is right for him...it's inspiring. It leads me to look outside the box of what the typical goals are, what I have been striving to do, and to think more of who I want to be. I think if I keep my focus on living a life I can feel really proud of, what I'm supposed to do with it will become clear to me. For now I have three little people counting on me to show them how to navigate through an increasingly complicated world. And I love being their Mom. Now, I'm going to go there and say that I love it, but it doesn't fulfill me. That's not it for me. I don't know that I could be the parent going through the motions of a college student with my child. I'm not sure what it is that is going to fill me up, but I have faith that I'm on the right path to find it. In the meantime, I am so happy. I love my life, and I love the quest.

peace, love, and meaningful goals...