Tagged: Limitations

A Walk In Progress

We each have a certain amount of minutes. We don’t know how many that is. Research shows that the more of those minutes we spend being mindful and positive the more we are likely to have, and the more we are likely to enjoy. Taking walks tends to help me be increasingly mindful and positive. I find walks to be joyful and fulfilling. 

I went for another walk today. I’ve been going for as many walks as I can. Walks are great reminders for me. Being present during a walk brings me growth-producing benefits. 

I don’t always feel holistically enthusiastic about walks before I take them. I do, however, always feel glad I’ve taken one when I have. Remembering that helps motivate me. 

The other day I took a walk with our 9 year-old. Even better than a walk by myself, a walk with someone I love. We had been sitting on the couch. We both started falling asleep. Nothing wrong with a good nap on a lazy weekend day, but what about a walk instead, I thought. 

I gave him the option. I said we could either close our eyes and drift off into our naps, or we could go for a walk. I was glad he chose the walk. We had to jump up in that moment, get geared up and step out the door or it never would have happened. We did it. Next thing I knew we were on our way.

A mile and a half to the neighborhood coffee shop. Not too long, and just long enough. The air was crisp and the sun was shining. Perfect. A perfect winter moment. Just enough bite to feel everything and the constant companion of the sun following along the whole time, warming out faces and counterbalancing the cold. We talked, laughed and had a great time.

Sometimes on a walk, I slip away from presence and into rushing. When I do, it feels like an opportunity to return to the present. It feels like a chance to build that mindful muscle. 

I can’t think of an endeavor that has an end. We’re always becoming. Most of what we do we need to learn to do, then refine, then practice, and then spend our time continuously enhancing. That goes for mindfulness, too. Heck, that goes for going for a walk. 

Our lives are not about reaching a point at which we feel comfortable stopping, but rather about continuously developing into more happy, fulfilled and accomplished versions of ourselves along what is ideally a balanced journey. 

Walks help me think clearly. They help me spend time with people I love in fun ways. They give me exercise and they make me slow down. 

I’ve always been very much a work in progress. I find more and more each day, that the work progresses in increasingly positive and meaningful ways when I also have a walk in progress.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks. 

A Focus on Subjective Well-Being at Work

There was a time when we in the western world didn’t understand the broad and overarching importance of well-being, especially in the workplace. A long time. 

Going to work has historically meant going…to…work, and expressly notgoing to fun, going to comfort, or going to enjoy yourself in any way, or going to enhance subjective well-being. Regrettably, I still hear people talking about their work, and their workdays, in ways that make me wonder how we can do better. 

Counting the minutes and thanking the heavens it’s Friday seems to be common practices in the modern workplace. 

On the other hand, I do regularly talk with people who make clear that they look forward to going to work. 

At school, I know lots of teachers, ancillary and support staff who consistently tell me they love, and are grateful for their jobs. Naturally, those people are also relationship-builders, risk takers and innovators. 

Whenever I’m in spaces with educators who talk about loving their jobs I see them (and the kids they serve) experiencing joy and balance. Kids’ at school, with adults who love their jobs, are generally increasingly interested and engaged. They connect and they collaborate. Together, they celebrate learning. 

My learning journey has let me to understand subjective well-being as synonymous with life satisfaction. How happy are you with you, personally and professionally? The answer to that questions speaks to your subjective well-being, and your well-being by any measure. Your well-being is an indicator of so much more, including physical health, longevity, social engagement, creativity and productivity.

Everyone lives within a range of emotions. We each feel happy, sad, angry, worried, and all the in betweens at different times. By happy I don’t mean smiling and skipping, I mean feeling good about about yourself overall. I mean being able to face challenges with confidence and resolve, and being able to celebrate triumphs (big and small) with genuine joy and gratitude.   

Subjective well-being is about how we feel when we wake up in the morning and when we go to sleep at night. It’s about how we interact with one another throughout the day. It’s about achieving our goals. It’s about how frequently we exercise, and the depth and frequency of our reflectivity and mindfulness. It’s about making choices that bring us positive outcomes. It’s about focusing on the positive while facing the negative with courage and resilience. It’s about hope, optimism and balance.

Ed Diener and Katherine Ryan wrote about subjective well-being in their article, “Subjective Well-Being: A General Overview.” In the article, they explore the impacts of subjective well-being on individuals and on communities. They point out, “…a growing body of research shows that high levels of subjective well-being are beneficial to the effective functioning of societies beyond the advantages they bestow on the individual.” (p. 392)

This notion suggests that we should not only be focused on our own well-being but also on the well-being of others. By regularly using tools and strategies like gratitude, kindness, compassion and reflection we can enhance our own experiences and the experiences of those we share the world with. 

When we perceive high levels of life satisfaction we tend to be more settled, more calm, more productive and more engaged. All of which brings increased positive contributions and balance to the communities in which we live and work. 

From a leadership perspective, focus on individual well-being is a clear path to a strengthened organizational well-being. Organizational leaders in all secures could enhance their practice by making a point to connected with employees, asking a very simply question, “Are you happy at work?”

If the answer is “no,” we have some good data and a positive pathway to do better. Follow up question would be, “Why do you think that is” and/or, “What would make the workplace a positive, rewarding place for you?”

Some people may know the answer, others may not. In either case, with a focus on well-being in the workplace, extending happiness, productivity and balance (both professionally and personally, and both individually and collectively), we can exhaust that dialogue and translate each reasonable finding in to action.

The bottom line is that a focus on subjective well-being for every individual and for all can enhance our work, our lives, and our contributions to enhanced lives of those around us. Increased well-being makes happier people. Happier people make a more peaceful, productive and joyful world, and that’s good. 

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

Breath In The Good, Breath Out The Bad

It’s been a week of family, friends, memories and love. 

Hard to believe it’s been a week since our Aunt passed. Time moves really slow and really fast simultaneously. 

Aunt Florine has us thoughtful and reflective. My initial tribute can be read here: Love, Love, Love…Love You More!

In recalling one of the many lessons Aunt Florine has imparted on the world, the wisdom of our Great Aunt Chili was evoked.

By the way, I think it was Plato who wrote something about passing twice. Something like, we pass twice, once when we stop breathing one once the last time someone thinks about or speaks our name. Something like that. 

It fills me with joy to write the name Aunt Chili. Talk about an incredible person and amazing woman. Aunt Chili walked this earth for a hundred and four and a half years. Spicy and uniquely Aunt Chili with every step!

Anyway, the lesson Aunt Chili passed along to Aunt Florine, that Aunt Florine then passed along to the rest of us is about breathing. 

Aunt Chili (and then Aunt Florine) said we should breath in the good and breath out the bad. 

In even more detail she said something like, we should breath in all the crisp, fresh, clean air we can. 

She said we should breath it in along with all the goodness we can think of. She said we should breath it in for as long as we can, and that we should fill our lungs with it. 

She said we should hold it in and let it move throughout our bodies. She said we should let it filter through the outer walls of our organs and flow through out blood. Something like that. 

Then (she said), we should let that crisp, fresh air release the good into our bodies and absorb anything bad we have floating around inside of us. 

She said we should let each particle of air latch on to any negative emotion, negative thought, confusion, and frustration.  She said we should let the bad cling to the breath we’ve brought in like dust to static. She said we should let as much bad collect on it before we expel it from our bodies. 

She said we should smile and feel calm, joyful and complete as we watch the bad dissipate and disappear. 

What’s more, she said we should do that as frequently as we can, and that we can do it whenever we want. 

Anyway, she said something like that. 

And why not? I can’t think of a reason not to believe breathing in the good and breathing out the bad is a good idea. What harm could it do? When I try it, every time I try it…it works. 

Try it now if you’d like. Try it, and really see it happening as you do. 

That’s the key. Visualize the good and visualize the bad. See the particles of air carrying all that stuff. In with the good and out with the bad.

It can’t be the first time you’ve heard someone give this advice. Our breath is so incredibly powerful if we let it be. 

Time moves so slow and so fast, simultaneously. How do you want to spend the moments you have? How are you going to spend those moments?

You can’t go back. You can’t do anything differently than what you’ve done. What you can do is make sure every moment counts. The next one, and the the one after that. One at a time. 

As long as we’re breathing, we can use our breath to enhance our lives. At least that’s what I heard.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks. 

I Don’t Need Feech!

Sometimes our youngest learners teach us the most. 

I’ll never forget the kindergarten student who loved learning and being in class so much he didn’t want to leave for speech services. 

He loved being with his friends, he loved his teacher, he loved building with Legos and he loved playing with toys.

When he left for speech he was pulled away from those things, if only for a short time. 

He was too young to understand the value of speech services.

Some, early in the school year he told our wonderful speech pathologist, in no uncertain terms, “I don’t need feech!” 

I love it!

“I don’t need feech!”

It seems that maybe he did.

It reminds me of something parents, caregivers and educators do all the time. What do you tell yourself you don’t need, even when the need is glaring?

I don’t need to eat lunch today.

I don’t need to get eight hours of sleep.

I don’t need to connect with colleagues.

I don’t need to ask for help.

I don’t need to exercise today.

I don’t need to take time for myself.

I don’t need to stretch.

I don’t need to hydrate.

I don’t need to reflect. 

I don’t need…

The irony is that some many of the needs we deny ourselves are critical to wellbeing, our learning and our growth. Even when they take time, they enhance our self-concept, our relationships and our productivity.

We all know the data around self-love, self-compassion and self-care is exhaustive and definitive.

We are absolutely better when we make sure our needs our met. We’re better for ourselves, we’re better for one another, and we are better for the kids we serve. 

Next time you hear yourself insisting, “I don’t need feech!” – whatever “feech” is to you in that moment, make sure you find a way to resist the pull, and go get yourself some “feech!”

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

The 20 Minute Response Strategy to Positive Pathways


Monday is Yom Kippur. 

For Jewish people, Yom Kippur wraps up 10 days of reflection and repentance that begin on Rosh Hashanah. 

The words “Rosh Hashanah” translate into head of the year (signifying the start of a new lunar year in Judaism), and Yom Kippur translates to day of atonement. 

There’s a story about a famous historical rabbi who was known for writing a list of mistakes he made each day before he went to bed.

He would write the list and promise to do better the next day.

The thing is, he often repeated the same mistakes he promised to correct, even as soon as the very next day.

Noticing this, a friend asked, “Rabbi, why write the list and make the promise each day if you’re only going to break it?”

The rabbi answered, “Ahh, good question…but tonight when I write the list and make the promise, I’m actually going to mean it!”

None of us are strangers to human error. No matter what we believe, what we practice or how we live, we all make mistakes. 

The really cool thing about mistakes is that they help us learn.

Our capacity to grow is limitless. 

The only thing that can stop us from learning from our mistakes is ourselves. 

When we continue to try, even and especially in the face of repeated setbacks, we give ourselves endless opportunities to succeed. 

When we model grace, self-love and a growth mindset we give our kids the same.

One area in which I’m actively working to grow is in my response to people in situations where I find myself emotionally triggered.

It happens to the best of us. Something is said or done that strikes a nerve and we respond from a place of emotion rather than a place of thoughtfulness.

The other day I tried a thing the other day when I found myself in that very situation. It wasn’t rocket science but it was a thing.

I was triggered and ready to speak in frustrated tones. I also knew that isn’t ever my preference.

Whenever I respond in negative ways it tends to increase negativity and extend triggering situations. So I gave myself a minute to consider my response.

In that minute I realized I needed more time. I knew I was on the right path, slowing down, breathing deeply, considering what impact I could have on those around me, thinking about how to lift the situation rather than dragging it around (and possibly even down).

So, I set a timer on my phone for 20 minutes. I made an agreement with myself that I would not respond in a negative way for at least 20 minutes. If in 20 minutes I still thought a negative, frustrated response was appropriate, then so be it.

Guess what. I didn’t. 20 minutes was just enough time for me to remember how much better it feels to meet a triggering, potentially negative experience or interaction with positivity, patience and grace.

Is it reasonable to set a timer each time we get upset? Is it possible? Maybe not.

That said, I’ve spent plenty more time than 20 minutes draining energy from myself and others with negative self talk, frustrated tones and unproductive confrontation in some situations.

To be clear it’s mostly all good. I’m generally surrounded by people who lift me up and I spend most of my time in positive, loving and kind interactions with those people.

I am human, though. So I do make mistakes and I do look for ways to learn from them when I can. I’m going to keep trying the 20 minute response strategy to positive pathways when I have the opportunity. Even if I fail a bunch between succeeding.

It feels good, and interestingly, it seems to enhance my relationships, provide others with enhanced outcomes, and move me through challenges even more quickly than when I respond to triggering situations immediately.

Slow and steady might actually win the race.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

Loss Learning…Powerful and Positive!

My heart was racing. My eyes were wide. The crowd around me was blurred. I could hear the shuffling and the chatter, but I was laser focused. 

Our eighth grader and our sixth grader were ready to play in their first tennis match of the season. This was our sixth grader’s first match ever. I can’t think of much I enjoy more than watching my kids engage in activities they’re passionate about. 

Watching them gets me into a flow. I don’t think it’s about vicarious living. I’m just so proud of them. No matter the outcome of any activity or event, I’m so proud. 

We have four. In this moment they’re thirteen, eleven, ten and eight years-old. I’m forty nine years-old, and while I still have goals, a wonderful career and an active personal, professional, spiritual, social and intellectual life, most of what I do is set on a foundation of my kids’ joy and well-being. 

I want them to be happy. I want them to achieve. I want them to know they’re loved. I want them to have courage, give themselves grace, learn how to balance their lives, feel calm, and find meaningful pathways through the triumphs and the challenges they have and will undoubtedly continue to face. 

The first set was underway. Our eight grader and his doubles partner were hitting every shot. Serves were on point, feet were shifting and shuffling, the ball was an obscured yellow blob rocketing back and forth with purpose. 

They stretched and they leapt. They pulled each other along with fist pumps and racket taps. They were steady, calm and patient, and they made quick work of it, excusing their opponents after a 6 – 2 win. 

It was as if I blacked out while they played then came to after the set. I was standing next to the mom of my kid’s partner. We exchanged smiles. A great result. After taping rackets and thanking his opponents, our kid looked up to where he knew we were watching with a wide grin and a thumbs up. I returned the gesture. One down and one to go. 

Our sixth grader, in his first match ever, was playing with an eight grade partner in a points match. It was a big deal and he was thrilled. 

That week we talked a lot about playing one point at a time. No matter the score, every point is a new point. Before long he and his partner found themselves down 4 – 1 in the set. I’ve seen many middle school tennis matches. This is typically where the opposing team wins two more games and runs away with it. Not here. Not this time.

The kids were hitting shots and moving fluidly around the court. They were simply off by a flick of the wrist here and a stretch of the arm there. As they crossed the court to switch sides at 4 – 1 our sixth grader flashed me the same kind of genuine and enthusiastic grin I got from our eight grader after his win. I knew in that moment he was nowhere near done, and that he was holding a winning attitude. I knew that no matter the outcome, this was a great experience for him. 

The guys won three more games, going down to their opponent 6 – 4. It was a great set! When he came off the courts he told me he felt shaken at 4 – 1 and realized that some deep breathing and mindfulness would help him get back in it. Even thought they didn’t take the set this time, he was beaming with pride at having won three more games after that trying moment. I couldn’t have wished for a better outcome! Sometimes loss learning is just as good as winning.

Coach tells the boys they either win or they learn. There is no losing on this team. Our kids take it to heart and live that paradigm as a young athletes. It’s wonderful to watch. 

After the match, coached asked if anyone had anything to say. Our sixth grader was the only one to speak up. He said, “I just want to say, whether you won or learned today, I think everyone did a really good job!” 

That moment will stick with me forever. So important to remember. Wining is great. Learning is great. With a growth mindset and a positive attitude it’s all great! 

When we listen to our kids, let them guide, celebrate their efforts and support them in processing the unique paths they tread, we help them build resilience. 

Loss learning can be powerful and positive when we make it so!  

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

Let’s Never Allow Hate To Be Normalized Again

Today I chaperoned our 13 year-old’s Sunday school field trip to the Holocaust Museum. 

We gathered with the Rabbi to prep before leaving the synagogue. She came bearing food, as all good Rabbi’s do. A variety of tasty muffins helped set a foundation of comfort and a positive affects we took the moment to ground ourselves in contemplativeness (which I’m almost certain is a word).

The Rabbi asked us (adults and teens) to individually consider what it means to be Jewish today and throughout history. She told us there’s no right answer. She said each us would likely walk out of the museum with thoughts and feelings uniquely our own. 

She suggested we talk with one another, with fiends and family, that we ask questions and  that we take time to process. She urged us to be present and reflective. 

As we drove I asked asked our son what he knew about the Holocaust, what he hoped to learn and how he felt. He was thoughtful in his response. He let me know he was looking forward to learning more. I’m very proud of the young man he’s become. 

We didn’t talk much during the tour. Every so often he pointed to a picture or some other artifact, quietly and confidently letting me know about a realization he was having or an epiphany that had shifted his thinking. He was so mature and composed. 

I tried to front load him as we approached each exhibit. I check in regarding his comfort level multiple times. He maintained that he was fine and wanted got keep going, keep learning, and continue looking through this lens of his own history. 

Early propaganda, discrimination and hate, disbelief and confusion, policies of oppression, the ghettos, the uprisings, the many heroic “upstanders” who risked their lives to save the lives of others, the many who turned a blind eye, the parallels to so much tragedy still being perpetuated in our world today, the camps, and the chambers. This was a to contemplate; for both of us. We will undoubtedly be processing together for some time. 

Our tour ended in front of Ann Frank’s picture and story. A story she lived she wrote down when she was just about his age. 

In the short years she spent alive on this earth, Ann Frank somehow had the wisdom, insight and foresight to write of a chestnut tree outside her window, “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver.”

We each have a unique vision of the world. A vision based on the complex amalgam of who we are, coupled with our lived experiences in any given moment. 

Ann Frank’s vision…the beautiful, complex and simple way in which she saw the world, a world that we literally crumbling in and around her…was her hope. It was her guide and her salvation. It was her enduring and critical message. 

She wrote, “What is done cannot be undone, but one can prevent it happening again. I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains. Whoever is happy will make others happy too.”

Michigan’s Holocaust Museum was gifted a sapling from the very tree that stood within sight of Ann Frank’s “favorite spot on the floor.” That sapling grows in the museum’s courtyard. It’s pictured above. 

Today, our son and I had a chance to look at that sapling. A living, connected artifact that had been looked at by Ann Frank. One that inspired her to the indelible outcomes she achieved.  

I stared. I couldn’t look away. An electric current ran through my body. I was viscerally aware that the unthinkable tragic events of the Holocaust, while deeply important to myself, my child and every Jew, connected to our individual and collective identities, were among a myriad of similarly tragic events that continue to plague our word. Not the least of which (and uncontrollable present in my mind in that moment) is the history of slavery in the United States and the western world.

One of our community members asked the Rabbi what we can do to make sure this never happens again. With a deep breath and a comforting smile she told offend that we must never allow hate to be normalized. She said while we can’t each move mountains, when we each take care of pebbles in this way, the world can change. 

So, next time you hear a discriminatory statement issued about a person with a disability, see a person being judged by the color of his skin, or witness someone suffering at the hands of others on the basis of her identity, do all you can to not let hate be normalized. 

Resist hate. Do it careful, compassionately and with grace. Do it with an open heart and an open mind. Remember, the beauty still remains. The beauty always remains. 

For our ancestors, for ourselves and for our children…for our history and for the future of our world, let’s never let hate be normalized again.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

The Write Thing

All four of our kids had the flu a few weeks ago. When they finally got back to school it was difficult. Our oldest struggled in the morning. He dragged himself out of bed and wrestled with the emotions associated with returning after multiple sick days. He did put one foot in front of the other, reluctantly making it happen. 

After school he reflectively told us he realized something during the day. He realized the challenge wasn’t school itself (something he actually enjoys), but rather the notion of returning to something he’d stepped away from. Change is challenging. Change is loss. Change is…well, change. 

It’s incredible to see him mature. We learn lessons from our kids al the time. This time, it felt like we were learning from a thoughtful young man. Of course, we are well aware that change is difficult, the learning is in reframing it through a new leans. Being able to share this experience with our teenager and engage in conversation about it caused me to think about where I struggle with transitions. 

I love to write, yet I haven’t written a post on this blog for several months. It’s been tough even to put my fingers on the keyboard again. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it has something to do with my separation rom the process. Each day is another day away. Change. Transition. Returning to the practice. Ironically, as I type in this moment it feels as though I haven’t left.

I know that the write thing is the right thing for me. 

I write because it’s a part of my reflective process. Writing is a form of mindfulness for me, and in turn, I believe it enhances my well-being. 

This platform is meant to be a place I can embed myself in learning and growth, and it’s also meant to be an archive, specifically for my kids. 

Thinking about getting back to the practice of writing and publishing on this blog was challenging enough that it took me months to do. Turns out, doing it is easy and fulfilling. Something to remember before, during and after transitions in general. One foot in front of the other. Things generally tend to be ok when we move forward with courage, resolve and positive attitudes. 

Live. Love. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

A SQUIRREL IN OUR CAR

We didn’t plan to have a squirrel in our car yesterday morning. Regardless, it happened. 

Sometimes things we don’t plan for happen anyway. For parents, caregivers and educators this is a relatively constant phenomenon.

I was riding in the “way back” (mini-van language) with our oldest. The two “littles” were in the middle seats and our 11 year-old was shotgun with Lorelei driving. We we’re about halfway to Sunday school when I heard a strange, scrappy noise coming from just behind me followed almost immediately by a strange sensation on my right shoulder. 

Believe it or not, a squirrel sprung up onto me, brushed past my right cheek, leapt into the air, ricocheted like a parkour athlete off my son’s leg, scrambled through the middle seat and up onto the top of the dashboard, where he (or she) proceeded to run frantically back and forth in front of Lorelei’s face, stopping every once in a while to lock eyes with her. It was a strange and awkward showdown, and remember, she was driving. I can’t quite describe the energy shift in the car during this unique squirrel-related event. Time slowed down and reality shifted. Out of body, for sure.

I was impressed at how calm everyone stayed. We decided that rolling the windows down, pulling over and eventually opening the doors was the way, and it worked. When the opportunity presented itself, our squirrel stowaway exited the vehicle with urgency. 

We’re still processing. A range of emotions persists. We’re mostly laughing now. We weren’t entirely comfortable driving home but we did. 

Sometimes things happen. Some things happen that we would have never expected or imagined. Some things happen that generally seem unlikely, even in hindsight. When we face whatever comes our way with love, respect and grace we tend to do ok.

Having our squirrel in the car experience reminded me, in spite of the many winding roads I’ve traveled,  how fortunate I am to be Lorelei’s husband and dad to our wonderful kids. How did that happen? Probably just about as unlikely as the squirrel in the car, but here we are…and thank goodness for that. 

Maybe our well paved paths and surefire plans aren’t the keys to happiness, but rather our ability to appreciate the twists and turns along the way. 

If you ever have a surprise squirrel encounter, may it be a catalyst to reflection, joy and gratitude…as this one has been for me.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

One of my Daring Days

Our 12 year-old recently said to me, “Today is one of my daring days.” I don’t remember the context.

There was something to overcome and he overcame it. It might have been an orchestra concert to perform in or a tennis match to play. It may have been connecting with a new friend or sharing thinking in class. Regardless, “One of my daring days” stuck with me.

At 12 years-old he understands and can articulate that some days are daring and others are not. He knows that courage isn’t at the ready all time, but a character strength we have to understanding and intentionally enlist. He know’s even thought is’t not always available, that daring is accessible to him. He had access to it on that day and he recognized that access. I believe this sensibility will allow him to have increasingly more daring days, along with more automatic access to them as he grows. He seems to like the feeling. I was thrilled he mentioned it.

In mentioning it, he reminded me that while daring days are wonderful, some days are not daring days. Some days are cautious. Some days we get stuck in fear and find ourselves unable to move. He reminded me it’s ok to live some days within our comfort zones. Even to live some days regressed and motionless. Sometimes I feel like I can conquer any fear and travel any distance. Sometimes I feel locked in place. Human. 

Change, while essential and inevitable, requires daring. Even positive change. Change is wonderful and exhilarating. Change is also loss. Even when we change for the better, the better replaces what was in its place. Whatever was there before the better might not have been as good, but it may have been comfortable. 

“Better,” even though it’s better, can be scary. When we change for the better it often feels like we are then responsible for maintaining. Can we be expected to be our better selves indefinitely? What if we mess it up? There’s lots of pressure in change. On daring days, the motion of change, the growth that accompanies it, and even that pressure can be exciting. 

Our 12 year-old knew he was having a daring day. The possibilities were boundless. After the first daring thing he decided to do more daring things. He told me it was a daring day while we were driving toward home. After he told me he mentioned he was going to write when we got home. If you’re a writer you know it can be a daring thing to do. He was teaming with ideas and enthusiasm. He enlisted the daring he found access to. He maximized its benefits while they were in front of him. 

It’s ok to have days that are not daring. When we do have days that are, we should harness them. We should take action and make plans. We should specifically plan for open-hearted self love and for grace in the knowledge that we will continue experiencing many types of days, and that each one it gift; days we soar, days we doubt, days we show up, and days we hide. Each is a gift. Each has value.

We should ground ourselves in reality by being intentional about identifying our daring days, taking advantage of them, and settling in comfortably to the notion that our moods, our energy and our capacity to engage courageously in the world, both inside and around us, is subject to ebbs and flows. 

It is said that happiness does not come to the person who has the best of everything but to the person who makes the best of everything. We should consider that as best be can, forgive ourselves when we can’t, and dare to keep putting one step in front of the other with every bit of strength we have in every given moment.
In it together for the kids. 

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.