How Do You Measure Love?

My niece, Emma, and I have a $10 bet on who loves the other more.  Me or her.

I texted her “love  you”.

She texted back.  “love you too.”

I texted.  “Love you more.  Wanna bet.”

She texted back.  “Yeah.  $10.”

I texted.  “I’ll bet, but how do we measure?”

Is it possible to measure how much you love someone?

I know how much I love her.  My heart bursts with love for her, but can’t put that love into any kind of measurement.  It’s impossible.

I can show her that I love her.  I can pick on her until she gets mad at me and tells me (angrily) to knock it off.  I can keep hugging her until I get the same result as picking on her.  I can wink or smile at her.  I can kiss her on the check.  I can take her to the movies. I can buy her something at the mall.  I can spend time with her.  I can laugh with her.  I can send a card in the mail to let her know I’m thinking about her.  I can wipe away her tears.

But I can’t measure that love.

I know she loves me when she laughs when I say something funny or how she rolls her fifteen year old eyes when I say something weird.  I know when she walks past me and says “poke” as she pokes me lightly in the belly.  I know when she gives me a long, tight hug when she goes home.  I know when she takes the time to text me back.

But I can’t measure that love.

Does she love me more than I love her?  Since I can’t jump into her body and see things through her eyes and feel things with her heart I guess I will never know.

I can only believe.

So who wins the bet?

I guess we both do because we love each other.   We both are winners because we are lucky to have the other.

And, yeah, I’ll give her the $10 — because I love her.

 

 

 

 

Do I Push Money Away?

The Powerball Jackpot is 204 million.  Everyone is talking about this at work and what they dream about what they would do if they would win.  Buy a new house.  A new car.  Pay off their bills.  Cross items off of their bucket list.  Donate to their favorite charity.

Not me.

I think about the thousands of dollars I would have to pay in taxes.   I think about all the people who be asking (hounding) me for money and where I could hide to escape this.

Not exactly the kind of mindset that will draw a couple of millions dollars into my life is it?

I always do that.  I always think of the bad things that can happen instead of thinking of the good.

When I was in high school this way of thinking saved my butt many times.  My friends would suggest going to a party we weren’t suppose to go to.  I would think if I get caught this is what will happen — my dad is going to have my butt and I am going to grounded forever. I didn’t go to the party.  My friends were grounded but I wasn’t.

The funny thing (well it’s not funny – it’s actually kind of sad) is that this is the way I still think today and I realize that this behavior doesn’t serve me now.   I didn’t realize that this is the way I make decisions in my life and this is the way I live every day.  Not many good things are going to come into my life if I think of the bad things first.

What about the money area of my life?  Am I pushing away the 130 million because I think of the bad instead of the good?

You betcha.  Sad isn’t it?  How could I live 52 years on this planet without realizing this before?

I never realized I was doing this until I started reading a book by Jen Sincero called You are a Badass at Making Money.  I’ve only read the first chapter but she makes you think about the many good things can come from having money.  Instead of thinking about all of the negative things (like I have been doing) she focuses on the positive.  This is a new way of thinking for me.  I didn’t realize that I could think of money is a positive way.

What if I started to think about all of the good things that would happen if I let money come into my life?  What if I thought about all of the people I could help?  My family.  My husband’s family.  My church.  I could start of foundation of some sort.

I’ve always know that money has been waiting at my front door for me to let it in.  It’s always something that I have felt, but I have never been able to accomplish.  Maybe I can now.

I am going to go read some more of Jen’s book and write in my journal.

And go buy a lottery ticket.  🙂

 

 

 

 

My Mom Is My World

I think the older we get the more we appreciate our mother.  We appreciate what she sacrificed so that we could have what we needed growing up.  We appreciate the lessons she taught (even if we didn’t understand why til now).  We appreciate the words of wisdom, the wiping away of tears, smiles and words of encoragement.

I don’t have any kids so maybe it took me longer to realize how many things she did sacrifice for me and my siblings and what it meant overall to the well being of our family.

I was always a daddy’s girl.  When I was younger my dad came first and my mom came second, but the older I became the more I confided in her and spent time with her and the more important she became.  As I grew older I think my mom became more important and my dad slowly took second place.  It’s not that I wasn’t a daddy’s girl anymore it’s just that he couldn’t give me advice on wifely things or give me the female perspective on menopause.

My dad passed away over two years ago.  I have realized over this time that my mom was the rock and still is the rock of our family.   Her love and devotion to all of us is the glue that holds our family together.  She is always there for us whenever we need her — day or night — to listen or to help us with whatever we need help with.  Her strength helped us grieve my dad’s death and keep his memory alive.

As I get older I realize how much she has shaped my world and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.  I bought her a heart shaped piece of wood that had the following words written on it:

To the world you are a mom, but to me you are the world.

My mom is my world.

Thanks, Mom!  I love you!

 

Why I Keep A Journal

I have been keeping a journal as long as I can remember.  I have always been somewhat of a loner so putting my thoughts on paper was always easier for me than talking face to face with someone.  When I was younger I didn’t have a lot of confidence nor did I have the courage to tell people what I truly going on inside so I took a pen to paper instead.

Now I keep a journal  for different reasons.  Even though I still am kind of a loner I keep a journal to work through my past issues and not let those issues cloud today.   I don’t write in it everyday like I probably should, but I do write in it periodically.

Writing in my journal helps me deal with what is bothering me.  I can keep things that are bothering me swimming in my head because I don’t want to deal with them or I can put my thoughts on paper and deal with them.

There is something bothering me today that I need to write in my journal about but I am afraid.  I am afraid of letting it come to the surface and dealing with it because I’m not sure what other feelings are under what I am feeling and I’m not sure how to deal with it.  I know I should (I’m shoulding on myself a lot today aren’t I?).  Once I start I’m sure it won’t be so bad.

What is bothering me is an issue I learned about from my parents.  It’s nothing terrible.  It’s just something I learned about an issue that was far away from us when I was growing up.  But now that issue is close to me and I know what I learned is clouding my judgement and I really need to sort through my feelings.  I’m afraid to because I know my life is going to move forward and even though this is what I want I am still afraid.

Ok.  Sigh…..I’m going to go write in my journal now.

Have a great day!

 

Don’t Be Afraid To Learn As You Go

I was scared to death to start this blog.  Would people read it?  Would people like it?  Or would it be a complete utter flop?

I noted on my about me page that I would post every Wednesday and Sunday.  This didn’t always happen.  I was scared and let my fear get in the way of what I really wanted to do.

I stopped posting for a couple of weeks.  Actually, I stopped and restarted…..twice.   At that time I didn’t know that WordPress had so much information on line and I was so overwhelmed with posting every week and all that I had to learn that I gave up because I didn’t know where to start.

One day I realized that if I wanted to have a successful blog I needed to commit and post EVERY Wednesday and Sunday.   Even if I’m scared, tired (which I am now), have a million things going on or I have worked ten hours at my shipping job I still need post when I say I’m going to post.

I have to make it happen even if I feel like it or not.  If I want my dreams to come true I have to try.  I have to make my dream a priority in my life.  I need to give my dream the time and space it deserves.  Or why bother having a dream if you can’t do what it takes to make it a reality.

I’m 52.  I’m not 22.  I don’t have my whole life in front of me anymore.  I have a finite amount of time left (hopefully it’s 30 years or more — I still have a lot of things I want to do) and I better damn well make the best of it.

I realize that I can’t let me fear guide me.  Even though there’s a ton of stuff I need to learn about blogged I can still write my posts every week while I learn.  My blog doesn’t need to be perfect right away.  My blog is a work in progress and I can learn while I post every week.

Go, Chrissy, Go!!!

What Does A Fabulous Life Consist Of?

For me a fabulous life consists of the following:

—  Needs being met.

—  Being in a place where you are happy, loved and content.

—  Having a job you love.

—  Having good people around you.

—  Having room to explore what interests you in and outside of work.

—  Having time to relax and unwind.

—  Having the money to do what you want to do and that you love to do.

—  Having the time to practice what you believe spiritually.

—  Having time to walk, workout or whatever you do for exercise.

—  Being able to give back or pay it forward.

—  Having the time and resources to follow your dreams.

Is my life fab?  Some days….. I have a long way to go before all of the items of the checklist above are crossed off, but I’m getting there.

I used to think a fab life was being Oprah or one of the Kardashian’s.  Tons of money, luxurious vacations, huge houses with servants and chefs, kick ass cars, etc, but I don’t think that’s a fab life anymore.  It’s more of a life of privilege, but not necessarily fabulous.

I think we can each have our own fab life on our own terms whatever way we think is fabulous.  I know that the definition is going to be different for each of us.  I know your lists isn’t going to be the same as mine.

Take a moment today to think about your life.  Are you happy?  Is your life what you imagined it would be?  Are you living the way you want to?

Maybe it’s time to create your fab life.  If you did, what would it consist of?

Take A Dirt Road

Two days ago I was driving home from our trailer and instead of getting on the interstate to get home I decided to take the back roads.

I had no clue where I was or what the next town was.  I just knew if I kept heading south I would end up at home.

I haven’t taken the back roads in a long, long time.  I used to drive the back roads when I was single and I needed the think thru a problem.  The open road, load music and  fresh air usually helped me solve my problems.

I love taking the back roads.   I love seeing the rolling acres of farm fields and the cows standing or walking lazily in the fields.  I love having the windows rolled down and the tunes cranked.

After ten minutes of seeing farm field after farm field fear settled in my belly and I was getting nervous.  I still didn’t know where I was.   I didn’t recognize anything I was passing.  What if I got lost?  What if I broke down?  Where would I tell my husband I was?  How would he find me?  I wasn’t looking at any road signs so I couldn’t tell him what highway/road I was on.

I looked at my dash.  I had a fourth of a tank of gas left and I was still going south.  I was fine, but I didn’t feel fine.  Why was I so afraid?

Deep down I knew that I would get home safe and sound so why didn’t I just relax and go with the flow?  So what if I didn’t know where was for fifteen minutes?  Would it kill me?  No.

As I headed south I wondered when the last time was that I took a risk like this.  Why wasn’t I doing this more often?  Getting out of my comfort zone and taking a risk?

The last thing I did that scared the crap out of me was starting this blog, but really nothing since.

Up ahead I saw the road curved, but there was a dirt road that I could go straight on so for shits and giggles I took the dirt road.  I thought somewhere up ahead the road would be cemented, but it was dirt for two or three miles.  Fear set in again, but I took a deep breath and enjoyed the ride.  I knew either somewhere ahead I would hit a real road or I would have to turn around and go back (which I really didn’t want to do).   The dirt road finally ended and I turned left onto the cement road.

Five miles down the road and about a half hour into my drive I sighed as I saw a familiar road sign.  I knew where I was!!  Yeah.  I took familiar roads I knew to get home.  It was beginning to rain and I was done with my adventure for the day.

Instead of taking me 45 minutes to get home it took me an hour and fifteen.  What I learned is that maybe I need more adventure in my life.  Why wasn’t I doing more things that scared me?  If I wanted my fifties to be fabulous I would have to get out of my comfort zone and do things that scared me.

Like going after the writing career that I have always dreamed of in my head, but have been afraid to pursue out loud.

I think my three goals for this week is to figure out a tagline for my blog, figure out how to collect people’s email addresses and post a post on First Fridays for everyone to read.  So far I have only told my niece about my blog, but I haven’t let her read it.   I know.  Silly isn’t it?  Fear.

I will let you know how things go.

What are you afraid of?  Please share your story.  Let’s encourage each other and get unafraid together.