Finding the Light

Every year I select a word to direct my year. (This is so much more fun — and productive — than a New Year’s resolution.) Previous words have been “Enjoy” and “Smooth.” This year’s word is “Light,” and so far it has served me well.

The best part about this word is that it’s versatile. Sometimes it’s literal, and I simply plug in the white string of lights I recently purchased for my office. Sometimes the light finds me through my children. Just this morning, my 8-year-old son shined a light for me when I asked him what he liked best about reading The Wizard of Oz. “I like how they help each other,” he said. My heart lit up.

The other day I was in a terrible frame of mind. It seemed like the days leading up to that day had been filled with bad news. My mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer, and one of my best friends announced she was moving to another state. That morning I ran into a friend at the Y, and we somehow delved into a deep conversation about living our lives with intention. I confided in her some of my insecurities about the “me first” world we’re living in, and she had such beautiful insight. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so awful anymore.

An hour later after my workout, I saw a woman in the lobby of the Y who looked a little familiar. Turns out she’s a close friend of my friend who is moving away. We consoled each other on our loss and proceeded to have an impromptu lunch at the local Mexican restaurant down the street. I never make impromptu plans, so this was a big deal for me, but I knew I had to do it once I started talking with her. She was a light; a light that I desperately needed.

So as we venture into this year by the day, I look for lights to help me make it through. Some days are completely filled with brightness, so I try to conserve some of that for the days that seem to have no light at all. It’s hard to do, but when the darkness comes, it’s nice to have a reserve to lead you in the right direction.


More days like this, please

I had two perfect days in a row, and the best part is that they took me completely by surprise. On Saturday, John took the kids out, so I had a couple of hours to myself. In addition, it was the first sunny day we’d had in a long time.

That said, I threw on my paint clothes and set up my art supplies on the patio. I clicked my phone to the 1980 Top 40 countdown on Sirius XM’s 80s on 8 and had my own personal field day. During the countdown, they played my number one favorite song of all time. I didn’t even know my song came out in 1980. (Don’t you want to know what it is.) It was pure bliss.

On Sunday the magic continued with another day filled with sun. My daughter wanted daddy time, so my son and I jumped on our bikes and headed to the tennis courts. We hit balls for almost two hours under the sun. I was wearing a tank top in January. This is why people move to North Carolina. This is why I never left.

After we played, we rode our bikes around the park on a trail and had the best time. Eight-year-old Graydon commented on how this was a great way to relieve stress. Bingo, kid!

We didn’t spend any money, and we didn’t plan any of this happiness. It just happened, and therein lies the magic. We spend so much time making grand plans about things that may or may not happen. Maybe they should happen, maybe they shouldn’t. All I know is that the past two days have been filled with smiles, hugs and goodness. I just want more of it, please.