More Than Enough

I'm guessing that each of us has childhood worries that follow us wherever we go. Some of us have processed them. Some of us are a work in progress. Some have stuffed them deeply and aren't consciously aware of them. Yet they impact who we are and how we live life.

For me I wonder if I'll always feel alone and will I have enough. Even though I feel alone, I'm not, never have been. But how does one define enough? What is enough sleep, enough money, enough plants, enough dogs? I'm a pro at going without to make sure I have enough. How ironic.

The gardener in me gets a little edgy this time of year about not having enough plants even though all my pots are full, and my garden is planted. I had a tomato plant take a turn for the worse this week. Now I worry what if all my tomato plants do that. How can I go through a summer without home grown tomatoes? Valid concern, right? Not at all anal or based on irrational fears. Nonetheless, I bought a 4 pack of tomato plants today to meet that need. Plus, to help the local nursery as it is close to end of season. I had to help them have enough sales, you know? I don't need 4 more tomato plants. I only planted two of them. The two leftovers must be Catholic for the amount guilt they are giving me. 

The beauty of life is that all my needs are met by the big guy upstairs. The times I didn't think I could pay the bills, I did. The times I thought I didn't have the strength to move forward I did. The times of emotional pain found healing. The year I moved 3 times, took a new job that was awful, depression made me a complete mess, the pandemic hit, and I had dogs cross the bridge, I survived. I grieved deeply, but I survived. Because I had enough even if I couldn't see it.

As I release this worry, I see how much I have if I let go a little. Or on my brave days, let go a lot. I have enough, more than enough. I may feel alone, but I'm not. I've got enough, and some to spare. If you need an extra tomato plant, let me know. If you need some faith to get you though, I'll share. If I end up with more tomatoes than I can ever eat, so be it. In the end, enough is a blessing I didn't see coming but will happily count. 

Feed My People

So far today I've fed two dogs, the hummingbirds, orioles, bees and some people who are complete strangers to me. I've fed my soul and more importantly I made a deposit in the karma bank.

As for the strangers I didn't personally feed them, I provided sandwich fixings for volunteers who continue to help with tornado clean up. Other volunteers will make the sammiches and deliver them on Saturday. It's a group effort. You see, just because the tornadoes were several weeks ago, doesn't mean they are over for those impacted by them. The need for prayers, sustenance, supplies, manual labor continues and will for days. We can still help.

Years ago, people fed us. With prayers, with home cooked meals, financially, and emotionally as Gordon recovered from his stroke and then months later ended his life. These were people we knew and loved, people we didn't know and never met. Friends, family, strangers all moved to meet needs during loss and tragedy. Back then I vowed to pay it forward. In tangible ways, like meat, cheese and hoagie buns, and intangible ways. 

Feed my people is a call to action. It's a call to step out of the comfort of a life smoothly moving along, into the messy life of someone else. If you've never had a messy life, count your blessings. If you have, I'm preaching to the choir. We need to be prayed for, propped up, encouraged. Sometimes we feed the people, sometimes we are the people fed. Either way, the need is there. Find a way to help. You'll sleep better at night, trust me on this.

Terrible, Umm, No

I got to thinking recently about the times I've been told I'm terrible. The times it's happened and the people who've told me that. Admittedly, I've told myself that at time or two. Also, admittedly I've been told that by a parent, a spouse, a coworker, a several customers over the years. Pretty sure I am not alone. Life just hands us shit sandwiches sometimes. 

Here is my takeaway. We're all half jerk, half jewel. Some days we lean more heavily to one side than the other. Everyone who said this was entitled to their own opinion. They were not entitled to take it out on me. Sometimes I absorbed the accusation. Sometimes it was crushing. Sometimes it rolled off like water on a duck. Sometimes I was numb to it. I don't believe I ever had the instinctive reaction to say, no, no I'm not. But, and there is always a but, I'm getting there.

I want that for myself. I want that for you too. While we may have terrible moments, we are not terrible. We need to remind ourselves of that. I know enough now, and sometimes I remember, that hurt people hurt people. It's a response born of pain, frustration, anger.  It's not something you forget. I have clear memories of such events. However, when you learn it's not about you it's about them, then you can turn the tables. By turning the tables, we can extend grace to ourselves and others.

We all need grace, and there is no limit to how often, how much and who we extend it to. If you have moments, memories or experiences of being told you are terrible. I assure you, you're not. You are human, prone to human moments. It's okay. You're okay. I am too. 

Small Bowls and Gratitude

Small bowls. They seem to be significant for this stage in life. When I look in my cabinet the big mixing bowls sit unused. Gone are the days of making big casseroles, batches of cookies, brownies, bread. When I pull them out I think wow, these bowls are heavy! They didn't used to feel heavy. They were used almost daily to feed a family, nourish bodies, provide snacks and desserts. Now when I look for a bowl I reach for the smaller ones. Two of which were my Mom's, so they're old bowls. I hope someday my kids will want them because sometimes your Mom's old bowls are just what you need. 

Gratitude, big, medium, small. Much like the bowls. With various sizes in between. Sometimes spilling over, sometimes just a smidge, other times a few drops. I've been keeping a list of things that I'm grateful for. It's posted in the kitchen; anyone can add to it. One of my kids is great about adding his gratitude's to it. I love that. I was getting a bit lazy about adding to it. Not that I wasn't grateful. Just that I wasn't consciously grateful. I wasn't present in the moment, or moments that grace my life. So, I put a pretty journal next to my bed. Each night, while I savor a small piece of candy, I write down five things I'm grateful for. Five things. Some days I'll jot a few down during the day and get a head start. For some reason the first four flow easily. The fifth one takes some thinking. Once I was grateful for the same thing five times over. It kind of defeats the purpose, but on that day, I was super grateful for one thing. So, I made an exception. 

I believe today I'll be grateful for the big and little bowls that have been a part of my life. For the wisdom to slow down daily and find some gratitude, for making exceptions, for just plain mixing it up. And... for that fifth thing that will come to me later. It always does. 

Connections

This is for the widows/widowers, the lost, those who've endured significant losses, those who struggle with depression, those who are hurting for whatever reason. I can relate. I've walked some of these paths; I know how heavy it weighs.

It's for those who've picked up the pieces and rebuilt a new life they never wanted. And for those looking at the pieces and wondering what the hell to do with them. For those who thought they were all past that only to discover it never entirely goes away. It sneaks up some days and floods you with sadness.

Somedays you can identify what triggered it, sometimes there is no obvious reason. It's a waste of energy to try to figure it out. Why now? It just happens, and you feel like the loneliest person in the world.  

You temporarily lose focus, and your pieces of joy scatter. I had a day like this recently. For no specific reason it was just one of those days. My heart knows I need these days because healing and growth is a lifelong process. Something was being felt and acknowledged even if I'm not exactly sure what. In the bigger picture, something was falling into place.

As the moments washed over me, I had the sense to reach out to a friend I knew could relate. It didn't matter than neither of us could fix it. You can't fix feelings, you have to sit with them, own and release them.  I knew this person could relate and knew that reaching out would make it easier. 

For the times you've been in this place and floundered on alone, for the times ahead that the clouds rain sadness, for the times you wonder can I make it another day. I beg you to connect with someone. Connect, and hold on together. Because sometimes you may be the one in need of love and support. Other times you are the love and support for another in need. This is how we hang on; this is how we grow forward. This is how we connect.

Dear Foster Dog

Dear Foster Dog, I don't know what your life was like before you came here. I know you were a stray. I know you came in with ear infections, skin issues, and had been a Momma multiple times. Pretty sure you'd never had a bath, much less a medicated bath. 

On the plus side, you didn't stress in a crate. You clearly knew what sofas are for. You weren't shy about finding your place on one. Chew toys were bliss, and squeaky toys got a workout. 

I have a million questions for which there are no answers. Did you have a yard to run in? Did you know the comfort of human touch? Did you have any vaccinations? Did you sleep in a clean place with soft blankets? Did you get hit, because I've seen you be a little head shy. 

Dear Foster Dog: I know part of your story. You were kept in a wire crate with 8 other dogs. Covered in feces and urine. With bite marks from stress and being in close quarters. I know you've been a Momma, but don't think you've had treats or the feeling of safety. I see the scars on your face from past trauma. All that and yet you have a sweet trusting demeanor. 

I have a million questions for which there are no answers. Did you have a yard to run in? How many litters have you had? Did you ever sleep in a clean place with soft blankets? Have you ever played with a toy? What kind of person would do this to a dog/multiple dogs? You and I have a lot to learn together, but we have time to do it. You are safe now; only good things await you.

Dear Foster Mom/Dad, I know fostering requires patience and faith. I know there will be accidents in the house. I know you worry if you're doing enough or could do things better. I've seen you give up things in order to foster. Things like your free time, your clean carpet, your blankets that used to be whole. I know each foster dog is completely different so each time you feel like you don't exactly know what you are doing. Because you kind of don't. Each dog has different needs and comes from a different situation. Sometimes we know, often we don't. But and there is always a but, you've done this many times over. You have the support of a solid rescue and many rescue friends, who are always willing to talk you off the ledge so you can help a dog who truly needs a soft spot to land. So, you open your heart and your home to an animal in need. Your resident pets help the process and share your love even though I bet they'd like to not share you quite so much. They help in ways the humans can't. They too were fosters, so they know.

We will have a million questions for which there are no answers. Except for these, will you say yes? Will you take a chance? Will you be the conduit between a homeless dog and a dog that finds a loving home? 

I've been extremely fortunate to be able to foster, I know not everyone can. There are a multitude of ways to volunteer in rescue if you follow your heart. I followed mine and it led me to Buddy, Jackson, Bo, Kobe, Pete, Sidney, Queenie, Buck, JR, Stella, Lil Bit, Wallace, Ryder, Mr. Hanky, Buck (same Buck, different time) Hank Jr., Cooper, Max, Addie, Lady Bird, Sophie, Addie (same Addie, another bounce back), Hobbs, Gunther, Layla, Clarice, Snowflake, Jessie, Gunner, Linney and Karma. Goods saves, great dogs, each and every one. Making a difference, one dog at a time.

How Does It Fit?

I've been a florist for 30+ years. There is nothing else I'd rather do. And while people often say it must be fun to play with flowers all day, let me say sometimes it's just plain hard work. All jobs, even ones we love, involve hard work. The big holidays in this industry are a marathon of sorts. A big push, with long hours on our feet, hastily grabbed meals eaten standing up, all best approached with humor and tenacity.

I went to work recently and dived into the day. Something felt off, but you know how it is sometimes. You just keep going. I think woman especially do this. Something is not quite comfortable, but you don't have time to sort it out. Perhaps, if we slowed down a minute to think, we'd figure things out. It's that expectation that we have to do more, more, more. So, we try. The older I get the more I realize that I don't have to turn myself inside out to do everything every day. 

Sometimes it's wise to pause and think about how things are fitting.

Case in point, 6 hours into my day I discovered that my leggings were actually on backwards. Hense that nagging sense of discomfort I felt. Did I remedy the problem right away? Oh, heck no. I was too busy. Pushing hard to keep going. Besides, taking time to stop, unlace shoes, take off pants, turn them around, relace shoes seemed like too much work!

Helloooo, what was I thinking? I deserved to be comfortable and not have my leggings in a knot so to speak. It was probably an hour later before I finally took care of my clothing malfunction. 

The good news is I had a "well, duh" moment and took care of myself. Boy did I feel much better after that! The lesson is to pause and listen. Feel how things are fitting and make adjustments as necessary. We can give ourselves permission to do just that. We can, and we should. So glad I did.