Back in the Day

Back in the day... I've heard and used the saying a lot. It seemed like the ups & downs of growing up were so up and so down. One minute I could take on the world, the next my whole world would crumble.

Yet I learned so many great lessons. One in particular came to mind the other day as I was reading the book Resolved by Orrin Woodward. He talks about a process called, PDCA. It stands for plan, do, check, and adjust. As I was reading, I remembered very vividly a time when my plan and do crumbled in my own world. I grew up dancing, day in and day out. Since I was 4 years old, dance is all I knew and I was quite good at it, spending hours after school at the studio. As I moved into Jr. High, I easily made the drill team. I was very confident, until one day.

It was my ninth grade year, I had already made the drill team for the second time. Half way through the year, we were to have a second tryout. We were competing in the state competition and we had to reduce our team to the top 20 instead of the original 24. The tryouts didn't even phase me. I would just go in my usual gym clothes, throw my hair in a ponytail and rely on my accelerated skills to make the state team. As I entered the room where everyone was getting ready to try out, I noticed the other girls putting on make-up, wearing flashy dance wear. Even the girls I knew barely had a chance were dressing up and practicing. In my head I scoffed at their meager efforts. Even with all that, the judges would see who had the years of experience.

The tryouts went on, I performed overly confident in my abilities. At the end of the judges tally, we were all given an envelop and encouraged to take them home and open them at home where we could have our reactions. I still had no clue that my world was about to crumble. I remember walking to the car with my mom and brother, handing my brother the envelop and telling him to go ahead and open it. Before he opened his car door to get in he cleared his throat and read aloud, "You have been chosen as an alternative." I laughed and said, "no really, what does it say?" He looked back at me with a ghostly face and I ran and snatched the letter out of his hands. I kept thinking, this can't happen. I'm better then most of those girls. How can I watch as they practice, how can I watch as they go to state competition? It was a sickening feeling.

Those next few months were humbling and introspective. I may have had skills but it takes more then skills. It takes humility and enthusiasm to create the life you truly want. It was just the 'check' I needed to 'adjust' my current circumstance. I knew I could be one of the best, but I had to do what it takes to get there.

That next summer, there were tryouts for the high school Varsity and Junior Varsity dance teams. There were one-hundred and thirty girls trying out, and rarely did any sophomore make the varsity team. However this was my new goal. I knew I was one of the best but now I would have to be one of the best in the whole city. I wasn't going to take for granite my skills or walk in over confident. I practiced, I dressed up, I sold out to the process and I had the humble confidence to know that I could win.

I made the varsity team and I was in of the top eight overall. What a blessing it was that day I didn't make the state team. Back in the day, I learned a principle that gave me the confidence that I can accomplish more today!          

Six Feet to Measured Success

How do you measure success?  First forget about your blog for a while and then come back later and see what you find.  Ok, don't forget about your blog, but it's really hard to see your progress when you are in the thick of it.  Truth be told, you can't measure anything unless you, well, measure it.  Like a kid, "I think you were about yeah high" holding your hand out level, "when you were 4 years old."  That's still vague and it may not be true.  But a cute little dash on a wall with a date will tell your kid just how tall they were!

A few years ago, we gave my parents a measuring board so they could measure the grandkids as they grew.  I remember when my dad used to measure me against a wall and it was so fun to stand straight barely keeping my heels on the ground as he carefully placed a pencil on my head.  "Did I really grow in the last few months, really?"  Then I'd turn around and see a gap between my last measurement.  "Wow, I guess I did grow."

So what does this have to do with my husband?  How do you measure character?  How do you see a change in your life when you are in the thick of it?

When I first started writing this blog, I was desperately seeking a way to get my husband out of his own personal cage of despair, what I didn't realize is that over this time I would find my own way out as well.  I will go with the measuring theme here and say I found 6 simple 'feet' that have helped me measure success.  My husband is 5'9" but he always wished he was six feet so he'll like this.
In the next few weeks, I will give you these 6 great 'feet' so you can look back and say, "Wow, I guess I did grow!"    

One Kill

One powerful kill, one powerful swing, one powerful hit, one powerful dunk… it seems like men live for these moments. I was watching the NCAA men’s volleyball finals with my hubby the other night. One of the men went up for a kill and before you had the chance to enjoy his approach, he had already reached 12 feet in the air and pounded the ball straight to the floor. With the magic of DVR, we watched it over and over, amazed at the power that could be focused so precisely. Of course, we see this a lot in our sports home. It’s what makes the Top 10 on Sports Center, power and precision. We have watched the greatest baseball catches over and over; the greatest tackles that are more like a semi hitting a bird on the freeway. We have all made the “oooooh!” reaction to the greatest dunks. It’s what men live for; the power of a real life superhero.

Could our hubbies be trying to tell us something when they say, “Hey honey, watch this!” As much as we sometimes want to say, “Hey honey, I have laundry to do!” maybe something more powerful would be to sit and watch. Give that powerful hit time to sink in. I think it’s safe to say that men want to be the real life superhero. Maybe not in volleyball or basketball but in life. The don’t want to be blocked or run over. They want to harness the power that makes a difference in their game of life. They want to be the one who gets the pass on a last second shot or stops the play at the one yard line. They want to feel like their choice has meaning; that we need them when the pressure is on.

Whatever it is he wants you to watch, watch it. The power and precision he is showing you is himself. It has always been him.

Challenge: Sit down and watch his favorite sport and then write down the powerful traits that you see in your husband.

Pic by The Armstrong's on Flickr

Man in the Cage

When I was younger, I used to wonder why the heck guys wrestled. What's so great about being twisted up with another sweaty, dirty, gritty guy? Well, my husband coaxed me into watching some cage fights on TV. I was "taken down" by the raw, truly, man to man art form. These guys work day in and day out so they are in the best shape their body can handle, just to fight another opponent for a maximum of 9 minutes. They combine all martial arts, some including boxing, kick-boxing and wrestling; no weakness is allowed and no escape is possible. Hence the cage.

I was thinking about why this is such a big deal to guys. I started to realize that my husbands brain works just like these fights. When he has something on his mind or in the cage, he doesn't tell me about it right away. Why? Because he is trying to decide which opponent he needs to be to overcome an obstacle. Is he the explosive fighter with all the tattoos? Or is he the one with a longer reach and dynamite wrestling moves? What is it going to take within himself that can help him get that new job, make that deadline, or overcome that nagging depression.

As a wife, I want to blow the hinges off the cage door and pull him out of it before he takes another punch. I want to snap him out of this crazy idea that he can face this alone. I want to make the pain go away. I forget that every fight teaches my husband something about himself. It doesn't mean I can't be outside the cage cheering him on. When he is jammed into the corner and sweat, dirt and grit are all he is, I can remind him I'm here. I'm present and even if he taps out, I love him. Because the man in the cage is him. He is that strong, he is that dedicated to his family and he has all the skills he needs to face his world today.

Challenge: It sounds silly, but wrestle with your husband. Be physical with him, find a way to remind him how strong he is.

Lone Tree

When I was a young pre-teen, my family would go hiking. We would just pull the car over during a long trip and go hike up the first mountain we came across. I don't even remember if there were trails, we would make our own anyway. My favorite hike ever was when we went hiking on Bell rock in Sedona, AZ. The red rock was beautiful as it reached high above the green trees around it. My brother and I had strong legs back then, we would race up as fast as we could, my dad being close behind. There were a hundred ways to climb towards the beginning but as the terrain got more difficult I would end up following my brother's path. As we reached the edge of our abilities, we reached the edge of the trail. I remember panting as we walked out on the edge of a huge red boulder. Looking back down towards my mom and sisters making their way up, I saw just how high we had come. I remember sitting down for a rest and looking out along the mountain. I distinctly remember a lone tree sitting on a huge boulder. It was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen, with its outstretched branches and green leaves against the smooth sandy red rock. It had grown through the harshest of environment: wind, rain, hardly any soil. There it stood more beautiful then any other. This tree was an example to me, then and now. Sometimes I wonder why my husband has to be around the harsh and crude language, why the battle of providing for his family rages on day after day. I wonder when he will get a break to notice how far he has really come, how much he has really grown. When will he see how strong he is or how hard he has worked to keep us rooted? I find that the times when I am being that tree myself showing that I can be strong, he gets that sparkle back, he finds that hope to hold on. But when I show him the wind and rain and the frustrations of the day, he sees the frustrations in his own life. I can help him by reflecting the joys of strength in my daily life, so he can see who he is and what he provides for us. Challenge: This week be the tree for your husband. Show him the strength you have by sharing what you love about your life. Notice what he sees in himself. Photo by L-T-L Dick Jensen

Black Hole

I have definitely been in a black hole the past six months and I have to admit, much of my relationship with my husband has suffered. I think that black hole started within my heart, a place I never wanted it to reach. I found myself searching for a problem because nothing was going the way I wanted it to. Nothing was convenient, nothing was exciting, happy, or fulfilling. Nothing was everything. And this may surprise you but everywhere I looked I found nothing.

My husband has been struggling for the past six months (not a coincidence) with his confidence. Many times he has walked into a business situation ready to find a solution and came out with nothing. Not only did he feel unfulfilled and devoid of accomplishment, he had to come home to tell me about it. I would be waiting by the phone or listening for the garage door to sound. I would be excited to hear the solution to our problems, a something amongst all the nothing piling up around us. I can just hear the music in my husband's head, you know, the song of the prisoner walking to the gallows. Dum dum da dum, dum da dum da dum da dum. I'm sure if he had any humor left in his stressed out body, he would have said, "Hi Honey, I'm home and I got nothing." And he would have hoped I said back, "No worries, babe. All we need is you, just the way you are."

How I wish I could say that's how those interactions ended but it was not so. The black hole that was sucking the life out of me was trying to suck others in with it.

But you know, I couldn't have told you that the black hole was me. I couldn't have realized I was the black hole unless I found some light. A black hole cannot be seen without a light, dim or bright. As much as I thought I was looking for the problems, I forgot to turn on the light. How do you fight the nothing inside yourself? I wish the answer was simple, quick, easy, but of course it takes choice, time, and determination. Today, in this moment, I choose to turn up the light by seeing what I love, not what I hate. And guess what? I love my husband and that is enough.

Challenge: Find the light source within yourself. Make a list of the things you love.

In Passing

Gorgeous landscapes, detailed flowers, delightful sculptures, collages of pictures are just a few ways in which my Grandmother expressed her depth of character. She passed away this week and I was able to observe the beauty she provided our family in ways I didn't see before. It got me thinking about her paintings that adorned her home. Each painting meant something different in each stage of my life. Sometimes I would pass by them and think, that's pretty, other times I would notice the colors, soft and light. Other times I would sit and stare at them imagining myself in them breathing the air and then there were times when I walked right passed them forgetting their elegant presence.

Well, a month before her passing, Grandma wrote a letter to her family. She had five incredible boys and many grandchildren. Her words were heartfelt and endearing, with many words of wisdom and love. As I read them, I could see the brush stokes that guided her life's painting. I could see the love she had for her boys and ultimately those around her who loved her. In words, she painted her last piece of art.

There will be times in my life where I will read that letter and notice that it was nice or times when I will notice the colors of kindness. There will be times when I notice the spirit of what she said and the friendship she held with me. And there may be times when it sits in a drawer unnoticed. But I know that when I pay more attention to the joys and the humor and love I will find myself in a much happier place, like in one of her landscapes.

I know that it is the way we treat our husbands that make us better women. It is when we are truly calm and listening that we can see our husbands for who they really are. Grandma wrote this, "I want you to treat your husbands well and love them and be kind and considerate." She also wrote, "A man has such strength, courage and such a strong desire to take care of his wife and family."

We can truly paint a masterpiece when we love and support our husbands and I am so grateful that Grandma taught me that.

Challenge: Write a heart-felt letter to your husband.