Did your text message test your patience? Ever need to save face on Facebook? Twitter have you all atwitter?
Messaging is both a blessing and a curse. Personally, I love it. It’s lower pressure than talking. I can respond in my own time. I can craft the message my way, which includes proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation. And most importantly, I can go back and read it when I can’t remember what was actually said. It turns out that I’m not alone. According to statistics: 1) Texting is most used data system in world 2) Texting is the most used form of communication for American adults under 50 3) 33% Americans prefer text to call 4) Here’s one that really got me: The average American spends 23 hours PER WEEK texting So, it’s not just me. The great news is that we are more connected than at any other time in history. Oddly enough though, we feel more disconnected, dissatisfied, and isolated. Is messaging to blame? Not entirely. It’s a far more complicated issue. But relying on messaging as a primary form of communication does contribute to the problem because messages are written. We rely solely on our words to relay our messages. As great as GIFs and emojis are, they don’t make up for important cues like facial expression, body language, and various qualities of voice like tone, volume, and inflection. Missed cues lead to miscommunication. We’ve all had that happen. You send a message and the reply you receive doesn’t fit what you thought you said, especially if it was in jest. If it’s not recognized and fixed it will lead to drama, stress, and potentially eating gallons of ice cream. Messaging is good for information, but if you want connection, you’ve got to talk, either by phone or in person. Arrange the conversation device to device, but have the conversation ear to ear, or face to face. I like to think of the progression alphabetically: D-E-F, Device--Ear--Face. Yes, messaging can be quicker and possibly more comfortable. Phone calls and talking in person can feel like more time and effort. Fortunately, it will be worth the trouble because you’ll have less drama, less time spent trying to fix the problems miscommunication causes, and less need to buy new clothes. Here’s what to do: take a few of those 23 hours per week we spend messaging, and call or meet up. This is especially valuable for our core connections, the people who are closest and most important to us like family, friends, mentors, etc. Try it for a week, then come back and tell us how much less time you spent muttering under your breath and how much less money you spent in the frozen food aisle.
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Autumn brings cooler temperatures, colorful leaves, and my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. No conjuring of Halloween hocus pocus, no pressure of Christmas presents, just food, family, and friends. I’m thankful for a great many things, and one of the biggest is growth. The fact that we can learn from life and share those lessons with others is one of my favorite things about being human. The connection of one heart and mind to another is one of the most beautiful and profound things in life. I’m grateful for all of you who take the time and energy to read my musings here at One Light Among Many. That I can say things that affect you is a privilege and responsibility I don’t take lightly. I want to do the best I can to give you something that leaves you better than before you stopped by here. I believe I can do a better job of it. To that end, I will be taking a brief hiatus from this blog to focus on two things: family and direction. The Christmas season is about my family, and the New Year is about direction. I’ve been listening, dreaming, learning, preparing, and have some exciting things planned for my return. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your presence in my life here, and I look forward to seeing you early in 2018. Blessings to you all, Debbie Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
I love quotes. I love personal growth. Put them together and you get these. If you know me in person, you’ve heard some of them. If you’re my kid, you’ve probably heard all of them. Choose Your Hard --Unknown It’s all potentially hard, so which hard would I rather deal with? Fold the clothes now or iron them later? Take the shower or lose friends due to stinkage? Dessert or extra workout? A little hurt now or a larger hurt later? Choose or life will choose for you. People who wonder if the glass is half-empty or half-full are missing the point. The glass is refillable –Unknown This epitomizes the Abundance Mindset, also known as, “There’s always more where that came from.” Greed and poverty come from the same Scarcity Mindset – there will never be enough. Generosity and risk-taking come from an Abundance Mindset. This is the good measure, pressed down, running over thing Jesus talked about in Luke 6. You can’t out-give God. Try it and see. WIN, or What’s Important Now? –Lou Holtz, legendary Notre Dame Football Coach. I’m much more productive thanks to this simple acronym. When confronted with several things that need to be done at once, or when tempted by distractions like Facebook, it brings instant clarity. Is Facebook important now? If so, why? At the very least it helps me act and not simply react. What Needs to Stay? – Various minimalist sources In my quest to remove Overwhelm from my life I’ve been decluttering my house, schedule, mind, and heart. Instead of asking, “What needs to go?” asking “What needs to stay?” has brought tremendous clarity to all these processes. It’s been especially powerful in working on my younger son’s bedroom, as it has transformed his mindset and made the process almost fun. When you buy the best, you only cry once. – Chinese proverb. It’s quality over quantity. Brings to mind what I call the Aggravation Factor, which falls in closely with the Choose Your Hard principle. Sacrifice for the higher quality item, or don’t and be aggravated when it doesn’t work/last/fit. If you keep trying, you are not failing. The only way you can fail is if you quit trying. If you’re still trying, even if you’re failing, you’re succeeding. –Mark Batterson, The Circle Maker This completely reframed risk-taking and failure for me. Failure is only final if you quit. FAIL = First Attempt In Learning. Fall down seven times, get up eight. This applies to everything from weight loss to raising children to achieving your dreams. Keep going and keep growing. Never try to write your best. Rewrite, each time, trying to make it better, until you can’t make it any better. – Brod Bagert Also, No thinking - that comes later. You must write your first draft with your heart. You rewrite with your head. The first key to writing is... to write, not to think! –Finding Forrester A friend of mine met Bagert at a library event. I checked him out on YouTube and, as a writer prone to writer’s block, I found this quote incredibly helpful. Both quotes really take the pressure off of “write your best” and help me conjure and capture my creative presence in the moment. I still struggle, but not as badly. Finally, as I was working on this post, my younger son came home from school. When I asked him about the letter I received stating that we owe a large amount of money for his school lunches, he said he would try to figure out why his lunch bills are not coming home. My reply? There is a solution to this problem, and he will find it. Do, or do not. There is no try. Thank you, Yoda. What are some of your life-changing quotes and principles? Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
When our older son was learning Kung Fu San Soo we bought him the original 1984 Karate Kid movie. When the scene where all of Daniel’s “training” comes together came on, I pointed it out to him. We marveled at the revelation of the blocking movements he learned, but our son said there was a lesson in the scene far more important than those blocks. “Mr. Miyagi kepts saying, ’Look eye. Always look eye,’” he said. “One of the very first things they teach you is to look your opponent in the eye, never at his hands or feet. If you focus on his hands you’ll miss his feet, and vice versa. If you focus on his eyes, you will be able to see everything you need to in your peripheral vision.” That concept resonated with me. I struggle with focus. One theme, in this season of my life, is keeping all the plates spinning. Be sure everyone is where they need to be, when they need to be, with everything they need and are fed, clothed, clean, and as mentally and emotionally stable as possible. Distraction, or even choosing which plate to focus on, is a constant struggle. Imagine the number of plates Jesus had and how focused He had to be. Without money, power, status, a college degree, social media, and with no fixed address, He had three years to turn twelve knuckleheads (as John Eldredge fondly refers to the apostles) into world-changers. His focus had to be incredible. In John 5:19 He says, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. (NIV) Later in John 12:49 He says, I don't speak on my own authority. The Father who sent me has commanded me what to say and how to say it. (NLT) Oh to be so in the moment, the flow, that you know second by second the best thing to do and say. I can picture Him walking the road from Galilee, stopping to heal blind eyes while blocking and throwing off Pharisees, raising His hands and calmly but firmly parting the angry crowd without even a roundhouse kick or a “hi-YA!” I wonder if Grand Master Jesus wore His tenth-degree black belt under His robes. With focus like that we could deeply and effectively love on those in front of us while pummeling fear, doubt, and worry. It’s certainly something to wax on. #focus #heisnotwhatyouthink #jesusninjathisiknow Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
Once there was a tree…and she loved a little boy. This book has been in my life for literally decades. Always the context has been that this is what unconditional love and self-sacrifice look like. I’m not sure exactly what triggered the realization that it’s a far cry from a healthy relationship, but a quick Google search confirms I’m not the only one who thinks so. A quick synopsis: Tree and boy love each other. Tree gives herself (literally) throughout his life until she has nothing left. Boy takes from tree with nary a thank you much less a thought to tree’s well-being. See what I mean? Unhealthy at the very least. Abusive is closer to what I’m thinking. We’ve been fed this distorted view of love all this time. Yes, Love is unconditional and self-sacrificing, but it’s about far more than making someone happy, especially at the expense of your own health and well-being. It’s helping someone become all they are capable of being, knowing that when they are learning and growing in that way, happiness is a natural byproduct. And so I wondered…if The Giving Tree portrayed a healthier and more complete picture of unconditional love and self-sacrifice, what would the story be? SUMMARY TO THIS POINT: Boy and Tree love each other, but Boy wants more out of life. Tree offers her apples to sell. Boy does so, returning years later. ---------- “Hello, Boy! I am so happy to see you! Did selling my apples bring you money and happiness?” The boy stood, hands in his pockets. “It did for a while,” he admitted. “I sold the apples and bought things, and I was happy for a while, but it hasn’t lasted. I want more.” The tree wanted the boy to be happy. She knew that with his kindness, courage, perseverance, and love for nature, he could do great things, which would make him happier than more things. “Happiness comes from being who you are. When you are the most you, you are the most happy. When in your life have you been the happiest?” asked the tree. The boy thought for a long time. “Here with you, when I would climb and play and eat your apples.” The tree and the boy thought and thought until the boy’s legs and back became tired. He lay down in her shade, and fell asleep. He had a dream. He hadn’t had a good dreamy dream in a very long time. When he woke, he knew what he needed to do. The boy and the tree made a plan. The boy planted some of the tree’s seeds nearby. He fed and watered them until they became saplings. Then the boy went to the schools and talked about his friendship with the tree. He invited some of the children to help take care of the saplings. The children smiled and caught his dream. It became theirs as well. The boy and the children took care of the saplings, and finally they were large and strong. The children climbed their trunks and swung from their branches and ate apples and slept in their shade. And the tree was happy. The boy was happy. The trees and the children were happy. ---------- Love adds instead of subtracts, multiplies rather than divides. It builds. It shares. It wants what is best for all those it loves. And this truer definition of love means trees don’t become stumps and boys don’t grow into lonely old men. Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
I have pads of Post It notes stationed all over the house: several place in kitchen, my night stand, my bathroom, even my car. With so many things going on, creative ideas popping up whenever they feel like it, and my memory being what it is, they are as necessary to my survival as caffeine. The problem is when I have a Post It but not a pen. Or worse, when I have a crappy pen. When I wrote my children’s book a couple of years ago I found a good pen for signing, one that writes smoothly and doesn’t smudge. I bought a box. I liked them so much more than the pens I had been buying, and especially better than most of the ones you receive as advertising. I became a bit of a pen snob. My thoughts were too important, and my handwriting too atrocious, to struggle with crappy pens. So I strategically positioned my preferred pens around the house, where I could find them but my family could not (What’s that? I’m selfish? Sometimes). Slowly though, my pens migrated all over the house, and not by me. Worse, I’m finding crappy pens in their place. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, but it’s really aggravating. You may be reading this and thinking, “Does she seriously think I CARE about her PEN PREFERENCES?” Stick with me, I do have a (ball)point. Here’s the usual scenario: Get brilliant idea. Find Post It pads where I leave them. Start to pick up good pen but it’s not to be found. Wonder where my good pens are as I search through the pile of crappy ones until I dig up a good one, IF one is there. Finally settle for a crappy pen. Start to write down brilliant idea. Stare at Post It. Blink eyes. Rattle brain. Fume at myself for losing the brilliant idea while searching for a good pen. So, I have heretofore banned all crappy pens from my kingdom and domain. Except the ones my husband loves, and those seem to stay in his office. How he does that is beyond me. I bought two boxes of my favorite pens and the crappy pens have been donated to a worthy cause. Do I feel kind of silly? Truthfully, yes. But I consider it an investment in myself. Crappy pens mean lost ideas and sanity. Good pens mean I keep both. Whatever it takes to help me focus. And that’s really the bottom line for me. Why waste my extremely limited time and energy being frustrated by something I can easily and cheaply remedy? Even low level frustration makes me more likely to snap at my family, or at least grumble and complain. Frustration makes it harder to love well. Loving well is worth a few extra bucks for good pens. And reaching for a good pen keeps me from reaching for a sword. Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
Sometimes Facebook Memories are wonderful, like when they remind you of awesome people and fun times. Sometimes they make you wonder. For instance, when you scroll down to other events on the same date but years earlier, and you encounter memories with previously awesome people who became awful-to-you people who are no longer in your life, and thus the previously fun memories are forever tainted. And it becomes the very last straw tossed onto a heart that is already pensive, heavy, and teetering. And rather than wallow and whine, you look for words that will lift you out of it all. Here are some that are helping me. I hope they lift you as well. Hi! You made it all the way down to the bottom. Thanks for reading and being here. It means a lot to me.
Searching and finding these quotes helped me tremendously. I hope they made you think and smile. Now go be the love. :) I know the article’s title was supposed to grab my attention, and it definitely did. I was incensed! I scanned through article to start planning my response. Since I retain what I read off of paper better than on screen, I printed it and set it aside to read in depth later. “They will pay for writing this, oh yes they will,” I mumbled under my breath. And then, life happened, as it always does. And it was late the next day before I could get back to it. When I finally sat down with it I was ready for combat. But, as I began to read the first paragraph, a thought went through my head--“Is this worth it?” “Is this worth it? OF COURSE it is! THEY need to know how wrong THEY are! There is a whole other side to the story THEY are not considering!” But as fired up as I still was, the more I thought about it, I had to decide that it really wasn’t worth it. By the time I read the article, considered a response, wrote it, edited it, then checked back again and again to see if anyone had commented further on this atrocity, it would have cost far more in terms of time and energy spent than I was really willing to put into it--time and energy that could be spent on things that are far more important to me, like my family, or writing the things I’m truly called to write about. As I’ve read other places, you don’t have to show up to every battle you’re invited to. You especially don’t have to if they don’t fit your purpose or passion. I’m not saying that responding to the article would have been a bad thing. It’s good to discuss and speak the truth in love (although, admittedly, love wasn’t my primary motivation here). But why choose what’s good when I can choose what’s better? Let those who share this purpose and passion fight this battle, because if I’m fighting their battle, I’m not fighting my own. Are they going to fight my battles for me? I’m thinking, ummm…no. And that’s what Love does: It focuses on what’s important here and now. Instead of spending the evening crafting the perfect response, my youngest son and I crafted a perfect time together, which involved chicken strips, movies, and milkshakes--all of which are tons better than aggravating articles. No one who scrolled the article’s comments would have missed mine, but my son and I would have missed an opportunity together. So the next time I see an incensing headline I will wonder if that is incense worth burning. Maybe I’ll even save myself some ink and printer paper. Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
I highly recommend a book called Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less, by Greg McKeown. I’m listening to it for the second time, but probably not the last. Not only is it immensely helpful but it’s read by the author himself, who is British and has the cool accent. McKeown says, “Essentialism is not about how to get more things done; it’s about how to get the right things done. It doesn’t mean just doing less for the sake of less, either. It is about making the wisest possible investment of your time and energy in order to operate at our highest point of contribution by doing only what is essential.” I’ve greatly considered what my highest point of contribution would be. I’ve come to the conclusion that outside of loving on my family and friends, my highest contribution is communicating through writing and speaking. This is my calling, and what I can best offer the world with my one and only life. In order to maximize my highest contribution, I must minimize, even eliminate, other things that are not essential. This Saturday, my church is hosting its annual Great Giveaway. Church members and attenders gather used clothing and household items and give them away to the local community. Between those who donate items, sort them, carry them into the building, display them, work the tables, make and serve lunch, give haircuts, take family photos, and provide information for other local service providers, there are a LOT of people involved in this act of love to the community. Outside of donating some items, I have never worked this event. The same is true for many other church events. I have felt a little guilty about that. But not anymore. There are many servants in my congregation. To my knowledge I am the only working writer. Those servants love with their hearts and hands at events like the Great Giveaway. I love with my heart and hands through my keyboard with skits, movies, children’s books, blog posts. It’s all love, it just looks different for each one. And, essentially, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Now if I could just type with a cool British accent. Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
Our kitchen table is one of the first things you see when you walk into our house. It was my grandmother’s dining room set, beautiful dark wood and green fabric high-backed chairs. They remind me of her, and I love that I can see and use them every day. With its centralized location and large surface area, the table is a tremendously convenient place to pile mail, bills, papers that need attention, wallets, pocket knives, eye glasses, cell phones, and empty gum wrappers. I’m not entirely sure how piles multiply like fruit flies on wood surfaces, but they do. It stresses me out, and so I have declared the kitchen table to be a Clutter Free Zone. I have designated boxes, in other rooms, for cell phones, wallets, etc, and also for papers, bills, etc. I have asked that they be utilized. Many times. Out of all the living space we have, the table is 24 square feet. That leaves *does math quickly in her head* quite a lot of space for all the clutter that previously landed on the table. If you don’t like my designated places, go find your own. It’s your clutter. I know transitions are gradual and new skills take time to perfect (especially for us older folks), so I’ve tried to be patient and extend grace (sometimes through gritted teeth). The boys and I do pretty well with this new plan. The main battle is with my husband. Unfortunately for us both, it’s a battle I am losing. My reactions to the continuance of kitchen table clutter vary from slightly-annoyed-so-I-nicely-place-the-offending-items-where-they-are-supposed-to-go, to hell-bent-on-destroying-every-item-within-the-area-that-is-not-mine. It’s a respect issue to me. I have asked that something stop happening. I have provided alternatives that are neither difficult to find nor use. I have been patient and extended grace when mess ups happen (although I have been known to be quite vocal about it). Several nights ago, as I was planning my next tirade, a tiny question entered my even tinier mind. Is there any way I’ve been disrespectful, where he has asked me to do something and I’ve not done it? That’s when I felt the 2x12 gouge my cornea (metaphorically speaking, of course). Guilty as charged. I hate when that happens. My husband has asked for us to go to bed earlier. Repeatedly. As in, over a few years’ time. Believe me, I have tried. For some reason my brain capacity, creativity, and energy level seem to surge about 9:30pm, and all of the things I haven’t thought of or done the rest of the day take on a sense of urgency. Shutting them off has proven more difficult than I imagined. I won’t go into all the ways I’ve tried to deal and failed. I could offer them but they’re still excuses. He has asked, I have attempted, but I have largely given up. Speck in his eye: 1 Plank in my eye: 0 So to that end, I can’t complain about address the table until I first address a consistently earlier bedtime. Because *grumbleundermybreath* that’s what love does. So I am, once again, taking steps to get to bed earlier. I’ve learned about the Night Shift feature on my phone, which I’ve told to turn off the stimulating blue backlight at 9pm. I’m changing my self-talk, telling my brain that as the phone’s blue light shuts off at 9pm, so does my brain. If there’s something I need to look up after that, I write a note about it instead of googling it. I’m walking the plank, if you will (see what I did there?). It’s a process, I know, but the past three nights we have gotten to bed earlier, though to varying degrees. I’m focusing on progress, not perfection. I’m being gentle but firm with myself while I make this transition, because honestly we both need a LOT more sleep. And after the bedtime situation is adequately under control, I will turn my attention, gently but firmly, back to the Battle of Kitchen Table. I think my grandmother would be pleased. Thank you for reading, sharing, and commenting. If you’d like to receive these posts and updates in your inbox, please head to the Contact Page to subscribe.
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Applying nature's principles and systems to personal and cultural development.About CommentsI love to read comments and know how my work is helping you. Please respond with your first AND last names. Anonymous comments will not be read and may be deleted.
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