Why Work?

why work is good for youEver wonder this?

Do you ever wake up in the morning and begin your routine and wonder why you’re doing it at all? Of course, there’s the immediate need-to-make-money part. Sure. Money comes, money goes, yadda yadda yadda.

We are conditioned to believe that our work is an end in itself, that we are building something for notoriety and reputation and accomplishment. And money. Pile it up, invest it, make it work for you.

There are other ways to look at it, though. In a poem by Khalil Gibran, the idea of work as a way to the divine comes out bright and shining:

…all work is empty save when there is love;…and if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple, taking alms from those who work with joy. For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half of man’s hunger…

1357808_alumniglobHuh. I love what I do. But some days, I don’t want to work. Some days, I just want to walk in the sunshine (not today in Michigan obviously) and feel the fresh air against my skin and listen to the song of the birds.

Except I know deep down that if I didn’t have my work, I would wander the earth, wondering about the purpose of it all. I’d search for meaning – I’d chase it as some people do – and end up empty-handed.

So as you step into the office today, think about why you work and why you work as you do, in this current profession, in this very job. Perhaps the kind of work itself is what stops you up but the very fact of working, that’s another story.

It is our destiny to fulfill. And it’s ours to define.

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Community = Come Unity

11949682-illustration-of-peace-sign-made-of-colorful-swirlI’ve been reading a book about Peace since I returned from India, in chunks and bits as I find time each morning. It’s a good way to start the day and focus on Truth.

It begins with a section on cultivating peace within yourself. Then moves to peace within the family. And then it evolves to peace in the world, community. So he begins the chapter with dissecting the word community into come + unity.

Um, so basic. How did I never see it before?

Swamiji says that if we can’t create peace within ourselves or between one person and another, how can we ever cultivate it on a grand scale? He says that disharmony on national and international scales really comes down to person-to-person acrimony.

If people are so unhappy and unsafe in their homeland that they dare to leave on a raft like this, shouldn't we always welcome them in?

If people are so unhappy and unsafe in their homeland that they dare to leave on a raft like this, shouldn’t we always welcome them in?

Simply put, we just can’t get along on a one-to-one scale, and that gets bigger because international politics is, simply, people relating to people.

It’s all driven by jealousy and greed, wanting what the other has, not looking inward and accepting that our path is exactly as it should be.

See that’s the thing – everybody wants what someone else has. It’s her life I want, not mine. Really?

Life is BeautifulBecause your life is yours alone and it’s pretty damn special. Can’t you see it? People are envying you, and you’re off looking at someone else’s good graces.

I’m not sure how we got to this state, but we live in it all the time – rather than up on an elevated plane, which is far easier to attain when you put your heart to it. Free your mind, open your heart.

What REALLY matters?

life-cardMy ex was giving me a hard time about exactly what minute I would return the kids to him after a vacation this summer. Really, I have no idea. We’ll be driving quite a long way and you know how you get delayed in traffic, with bathroom breaks, to stop for lunch.

So rather than hold tight to MY WAY vs. his way, I gave him what he wanted. Keep them the full day when it’s your turn – I don’t care when they get back. I won’t hold you to minutes.

I freed him and so he can free me. He might or he might not, but I can’t worry about that. It’s his journey to walk, his demons to battle.

Community-ImageAll I can do is open my heart and shine a little light on his perceived pain and say, it’s all good.

Because it is.

When I think of communities I’ve been a part of, the come unity perspective doesn’t seem so prevalent. Sad. Because we all want the same things: to be loved, to be heard, to be noticed, to be happy.

Can’t we give that to others? We can focus on all the things that are wrong with them and with us and with life in general, or we can focus on the good. It’s all there, side by side.

Yours for the choosing. Mine for the choosing.

All good. All supremely good.

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Everything Comes Down to Connection

rackhamThe sun was setting in Michigan, so it had long since set in Connecticut, where my children spent this weekend with their father’s family. My iPhone pinged with a text from my daughter. I knew I’d hear from her as soon as the Sabbath silence could be broken.

The day was wonderful, she said, playing with cousins in a kosher-for-Passover hotel. Before sundown Friday, her cousin’s new wife painted her nails. Over the course of the Sabbath, she doted on her cousin’s toddler boys, and played in the gym with her soon-to-be-cousin when her aunt remarries. 

“I’ll see you Tuesday?” she asked.

my beautiful daughter

my beautiful daughter

“Monday,” I reassured her.

For whenever we are separated, we have to know we always come back together.

The life of a divorced family isn’t easy. Of course, if I were still married to my children’s father, it doesn’t mean we’d have a blissful home. Set aside the notion that he and I had a tumultuous relationship, and consider that an intact family with two biological parents in the same house doesn’t guarantee time alone with each child or the personal satisfaction and wholeness that a parent needs in order to be a good parent.

Still. In my reality, six years and counting, my children leave every Tuesday and return every Wednesday. They spend alternate weekends with their father, and when the holidays arrive, we split them so they can celebrate with both of us. It’s the best case scenario for an altered family situation.

Eliana, me and Katie at the Indigo Girls concert, summer 2004

Eliana, me and Katie at the Indigo Girls concert, summer 2004

While he and I still don’t get along very well, I support whatever I can to ensure that my children have time with his family. It’s imperative that we know well the people who share our blood and history. Because no matter where we go in this world, no matter what we do, it all comes down to connection.

Without people who love you and people whom you love, life is hollow. 

We can celebrate all the religious milestones we want (Happy Easter, Happy End of Passover), but without connections, without love, we are lost.

Me and my kiddos, hiking waterfalls in Canada last summer

Me and my kiddos, hiking waterfalls in Canada last summer

So many people go through the motions of living a meaning-filled life, only to be left lonely, staring out the window with longing. Churches and synagogues are big, cavernous spaces that fill with yearning souls dressed in their finest. But they can be the loneliest places on earth.

The stories we tell at these significant times all focus on people coming together, people learning how to fill their lives with depth, people in community seeking more.

My children fly back today, to spend tonight, a holiday day at the end of Passover, with their dad. They’ll be home at six o’clock tomorrow, and we’ll fall into our usual patterns of knowing and loving and comfort.

The back-and-forth is hard for everyone. But it also makes us cherish more the special love between us. I never get babysitters when my kids are with me because I have enough time without them to do what I need to do.

I take them each on “dates” of one-on-one time, so we can stay supremely connected. We pile into my bed regularly, snuggling close, even my older kids.

I’m not sure we’d be this close if I had stayed married to their dad. Of course, we’ll never know. But I sure am grateful for the love that flows between us and among us now.

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Redemption: What Does It Mean?

past tense: redeemed; past participle: redeemed
                           compensate for the faults or bad aspects of (something).
  1. “a disappointing debate redeemed only by an outstanding speech”
    2. gain or regain possession of (something) in exchange for payment.
    “his best suit had been redeemed from the pawnbrokers”

redeemedThis week is holy for so many in this country – Passover at the start, Easter at the end. And all of us are talking about being redeemed.

Isn’t that a wonder, we are different religions with stories so bogged in detail, and yet we are focusing on this concept of redemption. Of rising up from the dust, of second chances. 

I wonder about this theme of being in such dire straits, we all needed someone holy to take us out of bondage. For Christians, it’s the bondage of sin; for Jews, it’s the bondage of slavery. For some it resides internally; for others it’s put upon us by others.

I don’t care the reason – we feel the need in our cultures to believe that we need redeeming, and that it takes someone outside of us to make it happen.

Pyramids-01There are so many lessons within Judaism about the slave mentality back in ancient Egypt, and that so many of the Israelites didn’t want to leave. In fact, most didn’t – it was a smallish group of believers who saw the light enough to leave the life they’d known and believe it could get better. I see so many similarities to today.

And in the same way, Christianity teaches that it is through Jesus Christ that Christians may be redeemed. A conduit to God, a salvation. 

Do we truly need to follow doctrine or a leader in order to find ourselves in peace? Do we need the guidance of something larger, something holy, to do right? Do we still fall under the spell of enslavement in modern times, in so many ways (to smart phone, to schedule, to wanting to be liked…)?

bright_golden_light_meditation_wu7jI won’t argue with the concept of adding holiness to ordinary days. And I won’t look askance at those who seek inspiration in the mundane world. Both are lofty goals, both hard to stick to in modern times.

I’ve been thinking about this concept of redemption all week, as it excites me when our holiday themes and times align. Every year for my entire life, I read in the Passover story about how we as a people were redeemed. And it’s a word that doesn’t resonate me in this context, so I wonder about that line.

partingredsea09We were led out of Egypt through a harrowing journey in the desert until we crossed the uncrossable sea by fate of a miracle and then the sea swallowed up our oppressors and we danced on dry land on the other side, so grateful for our freedom.

It’s a good story.

So who leads us out of danger every single day? Do we still believe we are in charge? Are we blindly walking forward, thinking we have it all under control, shouldering the burdens and the joys all alone?

youre-a-miracleThis life is truly one big miracle. The fact that we ever came into being, that we remain standing, that we get to start over again and again. 

These small truths are wonders that we truly had no part in making happen or continuing on a day-to-day basis. So go ahead today and celebrate. Celebrate the freedom of the Passover story and the new life of the Easter story.

Understand that the ability to stand upright and to think and to feel and to have our hearts broken and to fall in love, that is all miraculous, holy, a wonder. Only then will we begin the path to redemption.

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Managing vs. Leading

leadership-training-300x157How do you create corporate culture? It’s in the fabric of the business and if you’re an entrepreneur who let loose a great idea and poured in some great talent, chances are the corporate culture is an after-thought.

But the secret to great growth is thoughtfully developing corporate culture and finding the right people who fit within it.

That’s something I’m working on right now with my business, Your People LLC, a public relations agency in metro Detroit. Until recently, I’ve done a mediocre job of hiring because I wasn’t really sure what the personality and tenor of my company was – I only knew that I needed help to get all the great work done.

So now, I’m in the lucky position of putting some thought and sweat into this idea of corporate culture. It feels funny to say it comes from me, but hey, if I started the company and I own the company and it’s my heart on the line, then that makes perfect sense.

And herein lies the first obstacle: how do we fit my vision and passion and purpose into a larger box, one that all people can access? Says my wise friend, Tim Ruggles, it comes down to whether I’m managing or leading.

Leading allows others to step in and shine, to run with their talents and instincts, to create something beautiful. Managing is telling others what to do, when. And I can honestly say, I’d rather do the former than the latter.

Of course, all the great articles on this topic say you can’t do one or the other; you must do both. It’s that combination, knowing when, that determines outcomes.

core-values-banksThe question is, when do we step in and manage, and when do we step back and lead?

Here’s a great definition by Erika Andersen in a Forbes article:

“Leading is more about who you are as a person; people want leaders who feel ‘followable.’  We’ve found that translates into six attributes: Far-sighted, Passionate, Courageous, Wise, Generous and Trustworthy.”

Management is more of a craft: it’s primarily skill-based, like cooking or carpentry.” Both, she says, need to be demonstrated on a daily basis.

It’s so funny how we think we can do a job that is divorced from who we are in our personal lives. Hooey. We live in an era when who we are and what we do must seamlessly intersect, must inform one another, must work together.

leaders-vs-managers-200x197After all, entrepreneurs like me started our businesses because we had a passion we couldn’t help but share with the world, a hunch that there was a different – better – way of doing things, and so we just dove in. If I park myself at the door to my office, I’ll never succeed to the level I really want to.

So today, I’m focusing on knowing myself better, because out of that will come the necessary knowledge of when to lead, when to manage, and when to sit back and enjoy the fruits of all of our labors.

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Conversations About Freedom & Slavery

For the last two nights, we’ve sat around a finely laid table, discussing issues of freedom and slavery. Every year, Jews are instructed to retell the Passover story, the Exodus from Egypt, the exit from enslavement to freedom. And every year, we are instructed to feel as though we ourselves had been enslaved, and we ourselves had become free.

My kids are old enough now to have deeper conversations – though we still jump around the room like frogs, in memory of the Plagues. But this year, we talked about how we enslave ourselves today (worrying about what others think, women and body image, being a slave to extracurricular activities) and how we are free.

We talked about whether we mean it when we say, let all who are hungry come and eat. And we talked about how poverty comes in many forms, not just the literal one, but in the poverty of spirit and of emotion, the kid at school who just wants acceptance, the kid at school who just wants friends.

For many, this holiday is its own form of enslavement: you can’t eat a million things, you have to scrub your house to the point of gleaming to ensure that not even a crumb of leavened anything remains. That is an aspect I tried to let go but somehow, the mania of Passover caught me in its grip regardless.

For two days, and several days prior, we did little else but cook and grocery-shop and look at the materials to make sure it would be a lively discussion. And then we sat at the table until late both nights, talking and connecting and eating way too much.

It’s no wonder I am exhausted today. It’s just a holiday but it’s no holiday – the intensity of emotion and of thought take a lot out of you – at least out of me.

Perhaps it’s that I’m getting older and the mantle of responsibility for creating an inspiring observance falls on me. I’m no longer the frolicking kid strategizing with my cousins on how to steal the Afikoman and how to negotiate its return to end the very-long dinner.

Now, I’m the grown-up, leading my people out of slavery, opening their minds to a new possibility of life in a free land, of choice, of free movement, of thought. It’s a heavy mantle, but a worthy one.

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The Circle of Life – Like the Lion King Song

Just like the new generations of lions assume leadership in the favorite Disney movie, I'm assuming the mantle in my family. Not sure I want it. I miss my grandparents. But that's the circle of life.

Just like the new generations of lions assume leadership in the favorite Disney movie, I’m assuming the mantle in my family. Not sure I want it. I miss my grandparents. But that’s the circle of life.

I sat on the brick hedge in the yard, warm winds swirling under a gray spring sky, and wept. It has been so many years since I sat in my grandparents’ living room, around their long majestic table, my grandfather’s jolly smile and big belly presiding over the Passover Seder.

AFIKOMAN-14-blue-displayedGrandma was in the kitchen, bustling among the chicken soup pots and gefilte fish platters, scooping her homemade chopped liver into a china bowl and arranging the salads on glass plates with the finely chopped hard-boiled egg on top that was my grandfather’s signature.

We kids would commiserate under the table when we were very young, plotting and strategizing about how to steal the Afikoman, or middle matzah, the “dessert” of the festive meal, from between the pillows underneath our grandfather. He humored our first few attempts, catching us just as we tried to grasp the napkin-wrapped matzah, but eventually he let us steal it, pretending not to notice.

My male cousins were always the ones who somehow got the line to read aloud that mentioned a woman’s breasts. (Those translations really go for the literal.) Giggling spread like wildfire around the table and whichever boy had to say the offending anatomical word turned shades of pink and red.

grandfather and grandson

grandfather and grandson

We sang the few verses of Dayenu that we knew and at some point, my grandfather or my grandmother would start to laugh, triggering laughter in the other one, tears streaming down their faces, as they laughed in unison, one of the traits of their long marriage.

That’s what Passover always meant to me. 

Yesterday, I was remembering it all, and missing my grandparents so much. Grandma just passed six months ago, making this the first holiday without her. It’s an aching hole in my heart and soul.

Grandpa has been gone for nearly 13 years, but I can still feel the warmth of his soft hands and the happiness of his spirit.

Passover-GreetingSo I’m trying to find my own meaning in Passover, as we rise to the leadership generation, guiding the younger ones. Holidays were always about the cousins coming together and family all around. The meaning and observance were secondary; the people, primary.

This year, we won’t be with family because we want the meaning. But I think that was a mistake. I believe I can marry the two and have special memory-making rituals alongside the rump and ruckus of children playing and enjoying their cousins and family.

So next year, that’s the plan. This year will be nuclear family and a night of friends and then we’ll pack everything away until next year – except before we bring out the boxes, we’ll plan a bit so that all areas of the soul are touched by the beauty of ancestry, the richness of tradition.

On Passover, we ask, why is this night different from all other nights? We are supposed to feel as if we are exiting Egypt, leaving oppression and slavery. We are directed to sit around a table and discuss how the stories in the Haggadah are meaningful to us today.

I’m going to start with, this night is different because we take time and slow down, to be together, to recognize our special traditions, to shine a spotlight on generations that have come before us and handed us a legacy fraught with story and rich with lessons.

This night is different because we make it so. Not because we’ve slaved (pun intended) for days or weeks to get it all kosher. It’s different because we allow ourselves to be different.

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Filling a Hole in my Heart

e-giftcard-passover-01All the years of my life, until my grandmother started her decline in the last two years of her life, carefully chosen cards arrived for me at every holiday. The Jewish ones,  yes, and the secular ones – Valentine’s as much as Hanukkah, Halloween and Rosh Hashanah, Passover and Mother’s Day. 

Grandma Sheila remembered every moment, every anniversary, every emotion, and documented our connection with a card she read in its entirety in the Hallmark store, and then wrote in her glorious script, My Dearest Lynne, Love Grandma Sheila.

Over the years, the signatures changed – back when Grandpa Artie was alive and I was a child, the signature was G&G, meaning Grandma and Grandpa, which was our shorthand when writing letters from camp, so we didn’t have to spell it all out. 

Me holding Asher with Gigi looking on, approx. 12 years ago

Me holding Asher with Gigi looking on, approx. 12 years ago

And when the great-grandchildren started arriving, she became Gigi, for great-grandmother. 

I’m sure I didn’t appreciate fully how much love went into the selection and sending of these cards. I’ve saved some and tossed others. There is a file in my basement of cards from my grandmother.

And certainly there has been a tiny tear in the celebration of these moments in recent years, as she has not been able to mark the momentousness of it all with me.

our lovely Judy

our lovely Judy

Today, as I tore open a card that arrived from Oceanside, N.Y., atop a pile of cards from the same address, I realized that my grandmother has remained in my life in another person. Judy. Lovely Judy, the nanny who came to us when Shaya was 2 and I was divorcing his father. 

Judy moved in to our lives when we needed her, listening to my emotional ups and downs, caring for my children, guiding us through the moments of our new lives, rebuilding and building anew.

She knew my grandmother. She knew my family. And Judy was with us until we no longer needed her quite as much, and at that moment she moved to New York to live with her sister across from the ocean.

0b8ebf3dab15b71572dd4a7e2d5cc0dcAnd yet, every holiday that approaches is accompanied by cards from Judy, with very similar designations. Today’s wished a Happy Passover, with Dear Lynne & Dan, and Love, Judy, as bookends of celebration.

As I read the card and held the lyrical script in my hand, I realized, my grandmother is still with me. In new form. Grandma Sheila is, yes, with me in so many ways – her spirit resides in my heart and she announces her presence at so many different intervals.

But in the living, in the flesh, I still have Judy. We all do. And what a gift that is.

To have people in our lives who guide us and love us and remember us even as we don’t remember ourselves. I didn’t even stop to wish myself a happy Passover amidst all the tumble of preparations. I’ve been running like mad for the past week to get it all done.

And Judy’s voice, her loving caress, her remembering of all of us as a family filled with love, arrived to remind me to slow down, to savor the moments, and to love fully.

My grandmother used to tell me, you do too much. I waved her off every time as an old lady who just didn’t get it.

Recently, I realized she was 100% right. I have always done too much. And it’s tripped me up in the process.

Judy is there now, to help me get on the straight and narrow. To help us all remain in love, in light, as a family, in the moments that matter. And I am eternally grateful.

This life is only as good as the love within it.

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Passover Prep Doesn’t Have to be Stressful…

Alaska fod Alaska TS 038.jpgTwo days and counting…

Passover is one of those holidays that, regardless of how religious you are (or aren’t), stress is inherently built in. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone through the strictures of strict observance for Passover and still, I feel the stress in my bones.

Which is why I went to yoga yesterday and today. And woke up early on a glorious Saturday to meditate.

Perhaps it’s because of the specifics of the Seder table – the details that go on the Seder plate, the special foods that we make and eat only once a year, the ingredients we are forbidden to include, making us stop to reconsider our recipes.

But I am going out on a limb here to suggest that the stress we feel around this holiday is wholly created by us. It lives inside us, not inside the holiday. We choose to observe however we observe.wall_copy2

We invite the craziness to move in and set up camp and we simply walk around or over or trip on its blankets. We curse its presence and yet we don’t ask it to leave. We accept it without question as if rendered mute in unable to see objectively that we can in fact say no.

homemade-matza-ball-soupI’ve been so laid back about observing this holiday that I pretty much put it out of my mind. Which means that as the week drifted on, I realized how much I had to do – even just to make a pot of matzo ball soup.

And with a full workload, and a desire to make the holiday meaningful, the pressure mounted. And I let it. I let it march right in and point its shaky fingers at me and I bowed my head in shame, accepting the story that I had to feel stress or it wouldn’t be a meaningful holiday.


I want to be done with that and shed it like I’ve shed other stressors over the years that I didn’t have to let in.Java Printing

For some reason, we are raised to believe that we must follow along the dramatic paths that our families or our communities have carved out for us. But just because there’s a path that looks familiar, it doesn’t mean you have to walk it.

Carve your own path...

Carve your own path…

There are other paths. And news flash: before these paths were trod clear so that you wouldn’t get lost in the forest, someone else had to carve them in the first place. Think of yourself as a modern-day forester, identifying trails to keep nature-lovers safe. You create the map. You line the paths with stones.

So what am I going to do? Well, for one, I’m working today to get that workload whittled down to manageable. 

spring-crocusesI plan to walk in the 70-degree sunshine and soak it in. And tomorrow, when it spikes to 75, I’m going to step outside and make sure I take in my full dose of Vitamin D.

My husband has lovingly offered to make the chicken soup. Fair enough. I’ll accept. No martyrs live in my house.

And I’ll order pizza tomorrow night to make it easy and feed the family. And then on Tuesday, before the kids come home from their father’s house, I’ll finish work earlier than usual and make the several haroset recipes that my daughter wants to try and set the table with seder plates and get ready for a night of meaning.

happy-passover-haggadahI won’t worry about what isn’t getting done because that doesn’t solve anything. I’ll be in this moment right now because it’s all I have and I’ll believe that the seder experience will be fine however it unfolds.

Because I know that the memories come from being surrounded by people I love and who love me, and sharing our own perspectives on the traditions of our ancestors. If I don’t have time to really pore through the Haggadahs, I won’t, and I’ll hope that it will be enough to discover together the nuances of the pages.

That has to be enough.

GooglewebThe point of being Jewish- or being Christian or being Hindu or being Indian or American or Swedish – is not to drive ourselves crazy. It’s to add ritual and meaning and beauty to what might otherwise be a very sterile life.

We compartmentalize ourselves and claim certain stories as our own not as a means of imprisoning ourselves but as a way to make meaning out of the mundane. That’s what it’s all about. The rituals illuminate the moments. It’s not a race. It’s a life.

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From the Heart

Unity in the Community Logo2When sharing in life is the mission of an organization, every project and task must come from the heart. When the goal is to make sure that all constituents feel valued and able to contribute to the community, regardless of their personal limitations, then it’s not check-it-off work – it has to come from the heart or it just won’t work.

LSSM logo blueLSSMlogoblueThat’s the focus of one of my favorite clients, Lutheran Social Services of Michigan. Last night I had the gift of attending an event for LSSM, which featured one of their many programs, services for unaccompanied refugee minors.LSSM logo blue

A girl from Congo whose mother was shot in front of her eyes shared her story in lilting English. She’s trying for her high school degree. She’ll be 21 soon. Her life started over because of the goodness of the Lansing LSSM folks.

Pile-of-ShoesWe sat next to a couple who have fostered 21 children on their way from dangerous homelands to reunite with family here in America. They pointed to a pile of shoes representing all the children who have come through their family. Yes, some of them arrived in flip-flops in November. They talked about learning to make pupusas so some food was familiar to these children in a strange land, so far from home.

Sharing in life. Focused on making sure others feel a sense of contribution.

The work we do depends on the perspective we bring to it. Do we love our work or is it drudgery? Are we simply collecting a paycheck? Or are we devoted to making a difference?

Clear-Sense-Of-PurposeI know that in many parts of the world, work is simply a means to survival. If we are lucky enough to choose our work, to reside with disposable income, then shouldn’t we take care to make sure it’s a purpose we believe in? That we do what we do with passion and gusto?

There is no excuse for hating one’s work. Because the feelings of discontent come from within. We can see the world as good and we can see it as bad. It’s our choice. Walk left or walk right.

Of course, first we have to heal the holes in our own hearts. And only then can we march onward with a full heart focused on others. 

Sunrise-at-Carnoustie-gol-006It’s a sunny warm Friday here, and life is good. But isn’t it always good? The sunrise over the golf course across from my house was pink and orange, with light white frost on the undulating hills of green. The house was quiet.

It’s been a week of not meditating first thing in the morning, and staying out late at night for work events. It’s a week that has led me by the nose, rather than me taking charge. As long as I stay connected to source, I will be fine.

sailboat-1But I am surely glad it’s the end of the week and I can work quietly in my lovely home. I am glad I can spend weekend hours getting the garden cleaned up and ready for spring. I am glad that there are waves to time – sometimes swells and gales and sometimes light little flickers, a calm lake in the middle of a hot summer day. A good sailor rides the waves and respects the sea.

If I can say anything, a mantra to march along to, it’s that I’m grateful for every moment. Even the troubling ones, even the ones that go by in a flash.

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