Dandelions in the Wind

I am sitting here about to start on my grading again today, and I'm thinking about how kind everyone has been through this thing I am going through that I can't really discuss on Facebook, and I'm almost in tears because I'm so grateful for everyone's kindness. A couple of days after this event happened, I woke up in the morning with a voice in my mind saying, "look for me in the wind." I thought it was a bit strange. I was sitting outside Saturday, and I saw hundreds of dandelions in the yard. I thought, "sheesh, we need to get rid of those. The grass was just cut a few days ago." 

And then I remembered blowing the poofy seeds off of them and making wishes when I was a girl, and I heard in my mind, "These are all your dreams and wishes. All the hundreds still on the stalk that have germinated, but never come to fruition. All I have to do is move the wind, and every one of them could come true at once." At that moment, knew that God is in control, He had not forgotten about me, and there is a reason for all of these difficulty and challenges. God holds us in the palm of His hands, and the wind will blow. One day, the wind is gonna start blowing, and when that day comes, the dandelions are going to take to the air.

Thorns in the Flesh

            This is not another blog about optimism and how to think positively. Enough of those blogs have been written. And I wouldn’t be qualified to write such a blog. This is about thorns in the flesh.

A child is a sponge that absorbs habits, energies, words, and emotions of adults around her, for better for worse. Because of this permeable nature, pivotal moments can change a child’s view of her world forever. Unlike adults, the fringe between her inner world and the world around her has not yet fully sealed. The absorption of energies around her becomes permanent as that fringe begins to seal and thicken, allowing her to cope, self-soothe, and hopefully acquire good habits for a permanent and productive life.

As children become adults, allowing new in and old out becomes more difficult. The boundary between our inner and outer worlds also protects us, allows us to manage our inner worlds more effectively, and helps us cope with disappointment and trauma, as we are ready. Consequently, changing habits becomes an immense challenge when we are adults, contrasted to when we are children. What we condition ourselves to learn and unlearn becomes a daunting task. Even with tricks to bypass into the subconscious mind, we resist change, and our ingrained habits become memes. Perhaps this is why children are so adept at learning new languages, while adults must work harder to retain new language skills.

As a child, I didn’t understand my nature, but I was a highly sensitive child. Pivotal moments conditioned me with negative thinking, simply because there wasn’t an understanding of a child’s delicate nature and how the world impacts them. Many children have a thin paper fringe between the outside and themselves. Some children may have a thinner margin than others. My fringe seemed to be tissue paper, easily crumpled and torn. At certain key moments, habits and decisions created a negative mindset in me—one full of anger, pessimism, bitterness, and turmoil.  

Many years later, my fifteen-year-old self discovered Norman Vincent Peale, and from then on, I made my chief goal in life to become a positive thinker and take personal responsibility for my mindset. I did not realize it then, but the paper was torn in places, and it had closed into a brick wall in others. After reading literally hundreds of books, praying, meditating, reading scriptures, committing them to memory, doing reconditioning exercises, and going to therapy, I can say I am a more positive thinker than I was then. I know I am a work in progress. Nevertheless, after 20 years of surrendering to God, this aspiration has been a failure.

One may say this is a negative statement and be more positive about it. I am not proud to admit I still curse at incompetent drivers, complain incessantly when I get especially frustrated, and carry anger that builds up if I don’t diligently guard my psyche.  I diligently guard her, and she remains surrounded by a thin veil of tissue paper that doesn’t seem to protect her from the overstimulation and constant changes of life. This leaves me exhausted. All the time. Almost daily mental practices, prayer, and easing up on myself have helped, but they have not sealed the hole that leaves me experiencing frequent overexposure.

Negativity is an addiction, just like compulsive shopping, alcohol use, or drug use. Negativity is my drug. Like an addict, I have made many powerful attempts to kill the addiction, like radiation kills cancer from one’s body. And I have failed. Negativity is a choice, and yet it can be wired into the fibers of one’s tissue, one’s brain, and one’s being. I’m totally willing to change what I am, which is so intricately connected to and wired into negativity that it would be like having an elaborate surgery to remove all the connectors so none of the roots, tissues, or fibers can regrow the roots of this addiction. It takes a work at the roots. My identity remains a separate entity from negativity. I am NOT negativity.

Many people have encouraged me to not try so hard, let go, and surrender, and then answers will come to me. I took their advice and free fell like the world was turned upside-down and I was falling into the blue sky. For a few moments, I experienced what few people feel every day—completely free. But as I continued to ignore those roots, they grew back, and their vines tangled the spring in my step, the praise of my tongue, and the smile on my lips, and I was once again bound in thorns. Past conditioning and moving optimistically into the future will not make negative conditioning disappear. This approach works for some people, but when I don’t tend my roots, they grow a briar patch by sundown. I do not argue for negativity; on the contrary, I would give up anything--and I do mean anything--to live a life of unbounded optimism, to have a day of peace, and to taste the sweetness of freedom.

We all need positivity in our lives, we need encouragement, and yes, we need positive thinking. This blog is not to argue for negativity. However, everyone has more—much more—going on in them than anyone can ever realize.

And most people keep it inside.

Some people find their emotions spilling into their lives despite their best efforts and personal accountability. Others may think if someone shows their problems to the world, they are neglecting to take personal responsibility, but sometimes the opposite is true. Just because someone shows a weakness or they act out in ways they should not, that does not mean they are neglecting their inner lives and attitudes. They may be doing their best day by day, and if they neglected self-care, their conditions would actually be much worse. The world stigmatizes such people and treats them as inferiors. And likewise, when someone remains sunny and optimistic, their flesh may be wrapped in a crown of thorns inside.

We should be discreet and avoid inappropriate over shares regarding our lives, and if someone chooses to keep their inner life private, that may be what is best for them. I am hesitant to write these blogs, as I am a very private person, but I feel strongly God telling me to do so. And I obey, because I want to help people.  Nonetheless, I have never understood why some people put on their prettiest mask to cover up thorny crowns of flaws. If those masks came off and everyone pursued optimism while being real with each other, it would spare so many flawed people the pain of holding in all of their imperfections all the time. The people with the most imperfections are also the ones who are most conscious of what others think of them. I believe this unbearable type of pain is the root of many suicides, as is the stigma associated with mental illness. Unfortunately, many do not realize there are ways to cope with such burdens.

I am not arguing for the other extreme. For instance, someone who complains and cries all the time can be exhausting, and such behavior is toxic. I know someone who has been grieving a loss profusely for years, and there seems to be no end in sight. There is another extreme that destroys life.

Optimism is still the antidote, but sometimes we just needs to be honest. And sometimes we need a compassionate ear that will listen. This isn’t a sign of weakness. If around someone in this state, don’t give these persons advice. Just listen. I pray that the many thorns in my side, whether they are healed or not, will help me to remember to be compassionate to all people and not judge the manifestations of their behavior so quickly. I am guiltier of judging than many, but requiring more self-compassion has a strange way of impacting how I treat others. A thorn in the flesh hurts, plain and simple. The Apostle Paul prayed for God to take away the thorn in his side multiple times, and God did not:

"And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong." (2 Cor. 12:7-10) 

God’s reasons are not entirely clear, but we know that Paul had every worldly reason to boast, and his thorn in the flesh kept him humble, compassionate, and real with himself and others. Likewise, when Jesus was given a crown of thorns, he did not cast it off because he took on the sins of the world so that we could be healed. By his stripes we are healed, but I believe through his thorns we are healed as well. He took our stripes, and every day, he takes our thorns. Our thorns sometimes grow back, but his consuming love continues to burn them away. Grace is God’s way of showing us this consuming fire of love.

Even though God heals, and he takes away many thorns in the flesh, I do know I will let God use it in me if he can, and maybe one day he will heal me. He has even told me He will. In writing this, it’s funny that I found a quote I was looking for on a website called positivelypositive.com. It states: “Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

When Your Best is Not Good Enough and You Have No Answers

I need prayers continuously, and I don't care who knows it. If that is a weakness, then I'd rather be weak in Jesus's arms, than strong on my own. I have experienced more existential "crises" than the average person, and some people don't get that. That's okay. I also know people have a choice in how they view disappointments, challenges, and rejections, and you have to get yourself up, dust yourself off, move on, and not take it too personally. This is true.                                                                              

Yet I have persisted against endless professional challenges, that it makes me question what my true purpose on this earth is for. I no longer experience meaning, purpose, and contribution in ways that are significant, and every once in a while, yes, I need to feel empowered and validated. I used to experience, feel, and create these all the time. I NEVER do anymore. EVER. They are gone. Professionally and artistically, I am dead in the water.                                                                                              

I want to feel needed, empowered, and alive, like I am living life for others, a higher purpose, and everything it is worth. Don't we all? I have not experienced anything close to this in so long I don't remember what it feels like or looks like, especially professionally. There, I said it. Being forgotten hurts, and when there is no other experience, it can crush you, especially over the course of years. I affirm for more positive experiences in the future and make adjustments to my attitude and circumstances based on new information--constantly, and I believe those affirmations--but the years bring more of the same, even when I let Jesus take the wheel, and take action myself under his guidance.                                        

Perceptions can get distorted, and all I see is a future full of gray dailiness and stacks of graded papers and neglected personal projects, as well as a life swept under the rug into forgotten-ness. Sometimes a new experience comes along to remind me, not of what I can do, but where I fall short. I don't seem to possess the what-have-you to keep up, even giving everything I have. I no longer think I'm deficient, like I used to, and I no longer think I don't have what it takes. God has set me straight on those. What I'm left with is no answers. No reasons. I simply don't know what to think anymore . . .

I just pray. Like always. I just pray. There may not be answers at this moment, but there are arms to hold me. And you.

A Single Heart Can Make a World of Difference

Our country is becoming blinded by its attachment to its own polarized views. People don't know what being moderate and appreciating a diversity of views is anymore, and that when someone does not share their views, they do not have to go into attack mode.  Much of our culture claims to be tolerant, and yet they are blatantly intolerant to those who do not hold their views. That defeats the purpose of tolerance.

Many have been victims of discrimination, and are not left to live their lives in peace as well. And quite often, the other side is the same way. Intolerance has gotten to the point that everyone has to apologize for everything, walk on eggshells about everything they say, and censor everything they say to make sure it is P.C. Being P.C. is one thing, and compassion and tolerance are another. Compassion and tolerance can exist simultaneously with freedom of speech. Political correctness can exist without love, but compassion cannot. I know there are those that don't agree, and that is fine. And those that need to guard their tongues more, often say hurtful things to lash out because they see culture changing so fast, to the point that the cultural wars could cause another opportunity to split our country in half.

Intolerance breeds more intolerance. Offense breeds more offense. And hate breeds more hate. In order to break this cycle, people must practice love and understanding. That is the first commandment. No, tolerance should not come at the complete expense of our convictions, but love wasn't given as the first commandment without reason. It seems absurd to say that cultural differences can split our country in half now, but if offense grows rampant in our society, how to forgive is forgotten, and as culture forgets the art of civil debate, it only takes a generation or two to destroy all that previous generations gave their lives for.

I think about the people I have loved and lost that gave years of their lives fighting for this country and our freedoms, and I know this is not what they would want. The best way we can honor their memory is to have open dialogue while standing up for what we believe, respect each other, and learn to let go of offense, regardless of our views, and that includes me. We need to focus on and give more energy to what makes us the same, not what makes us different. Imaculee Iligabiza, who wrote Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust saw her entire family murdered during the Rwandan genocide, and she forgave those (with much difficulty) that committed unthinkable acts against her people: "As for the land of my birth, I know that Rwanda can heal herself if she learns the lesson of forgiveness. Tens of thousands who were jailed for killing during the genocide are starting to be released into their own towns and villages, so if there ever was a time for forgiveness, it is now. Rwanda can be a paradise again, but it will take the love of the entire world to heal my homeland. And that's as it should be, for what happened in Rwanda happened to us all--humanity was wounded by the genocide."

"The love of a single heart can make a world of difference. I believe that we can heal Rwanda--and the world--by healing one heart at a time."

What is going on in this country is nothing like what happened in Rwanda in the 90's, but the principle of love and forgiveness is the same. I believe Ms. Iligabiza is saying that what one does to another, affects the whole world. People look to the U.S. as a leader and example, and when we do not live up to our potential, others are influenced by our behavior. It affects the whole world. Ilagabiza forgave people who murdered her family and tortured her. While I am not saying that unforgiveness always leads to killing, intolerance was a disease that infected their country until Hutus began killing Tutsis by the thousands because they saw them as "cockroaches." They forgot to see their enemies and opponents' humanity. I have been guilty of this myself. As issues, controversies, and "scandals" continue to arise, try to look at all people in the situation as humans who are trying to do their best in this life. Sometimes it is best to give someone the benefit of the doubt, regardless of what the media or its opponents do or say.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of my conservative and liberal friends. I love you all, regardless of your views.

The Method Does Matter

I was watching a video message on a controversial social issue, and it stated: "If This Video Makes You Uncomfortable, Then You Make Me Uncomfortable," and it had a thought-provoking message, but I disagreed with its method. I have seen messages from conservatives and liberals alike attempting to convince or argue their points to the opposition with an antagonistic tone and attitude and it accomplished nothing, except maybe to perpetuate stereotypes the other side already holds against its opposition, and to entrench the opposition more stubbornly into its position. This especially stands true on touchy topics like homosexuality and abortion. When one has a constructive goal in mind, this is counterproductive.

 If someone makes you feel wrong or immoral because of a difference of conviction or opinion, do you listen with an open mind, or do you run the other way? Christ always approached sinners in a spirit, not of opposition--but of love and acceptance--even when he disagreed with their life choices, and their responses to him were miraculous. He changed lives. Take when Jesus talks to the woman at the well: 

 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” ⁸ (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)

⁹ The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.^[a])

¹⁰ Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

¹¹ “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? ¹² Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”

¹³ Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, ¹⁴ but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

¹⁵ The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

¹⁶ He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.”

¹⁷ “I have no husband,” she replied.

Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. ¹⁸ The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”

¹⁹ “Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. ²⁰ Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.”

²¹ “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. ²² You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. ²³ Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. ²⁴ God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth" (New International Version, John 4: 9-21).

When he tells the woman she has five husbands, he is not judging her, but simply telling her what he knows about her. He is Jesus, therefore without sin. No one else can claim that. And the fact is, he does not care what his disciples or the Pharisees think of him speaking to a Samaritan woman because it is his responsibility to love her as one created by God. She is from a people the Jews "despised," but this makes no difference to Jesus. Jesus cared about her lifestyle choices, but never once did he condemn or judge her, even while being truthful about those choices. Jesus seems more concerned her spirit's well being and telling people the good news. It is not that he tolerated sin, but he seems to prefer helping the very ones others despised:  tax collectors, adulterers, prostitutes, Samaritans, poor people, and lepers, just to name a few.

If someone wants to promote love and acceptance, then they cannot do it by antagonizing the very person they intend to convince. If they want someone to be open and accepting, they must be the same way. It is a two way street, regardless. If one uses condemnation, judgment and guilt, one is perpetuating the opposite of the very values they claim to uphold. Cycles of hatred and discrimination cannot be ended with the same.

They must be begun with peace, love, and understanding, even to those whom one means to change. Change only comes from within, when the individual makes a free will choice to do so. All the more reason the method does matter. Often, one may even agree with the message, but a judgmental method does not add credibility the argument. I know I've been guilty of this getting caught up in my own thoughts and feelings about an issue, but regardless of how emotional an argument, or even how "right" a side is, mutual respect is essential if any meaningful dialogue or progress is to be made on important issues in our culture.

Gratitude for a Life Well Lived

Gratitude for a Life Well Lived

The Greatest Generation

For all my grandparents

Rachel Van Horn-triolet

The last twilight of autumn sky retreats.

Where has the Greatest Generation gone?

Survivors cross the shores, shells rain in sheets.

The last twilight of autumn sky retreats.

Now they’ve come home.  They’re kissing in the streets.

Flags cover caskets.  Gun salutes are drawn.

The last twilight of autumn sky retreats.

Where has the Greatest Generation gone?

I have not put anything into writing since my grandfather died. Words cannot do justice to the range of influence his life, his character, and his presence had on the family, the community, and me. When I found out he had passed, I could not help but feel gratitude that he was at home, in his sleep, and at peace when he slipped away. I couldn’t help but feel gratitude for his life’s presence in our family. I couldn’t help but feel gratitude to come from a well-regarded family, partly to the credit of Granddaddy’s moral character. I couldn’t help but feel gratitude for the generous time I had both Ma and Granddaddy in my life. Grover Coleman was 89 years old.

He was born on a farm in 1924, the second son of George and Lily Day Coleman. He had two sisters, Betty and Mary, and an older brother, Earl. He grew up on the South Georgia soil, and went to school until his junior year, when his father needed his help on the farm. A few years later, he was drafted into the Navy during World War II. After the war, he married Eloise Evans, and they had five children—Janis, Gary, Brent, Jennie, and Marty.

They worked hard to raise a family, and he worked as a provider—a farmer, woolen mill worker, egg truck driver, small business owner, and restaurant owner. He and Eloise became pillars in their community, running The Chicken Place, famous for the recipe of fried chicken people still mention to this day. Every year, Eloise and Grover worked the polls, helping Americans exercise their constitutional right and civic duty to vote in elections. They went to church every Sunday, visited the sick, aided people in need, and helped out family any time they asked. I never met anyone more generous than my grandparents, and I spent days with them on the farm while my mom went back to work, and then when I went to college, their home became my second home, and they became my second parents.

Growing up, Granddaddy was a trickster and a comic. He possessed the quickest reflexes I know, slapping my hands before I could remove them from the white bar in the kitchen we sat around for hours eating and talking through the years. He made a monkey face that made me laugh. He moved his ears and made his glasses move up and down, and he always ended his day in that old recliner. When he came home, my sister Stephanie and I removed his boots and socks. One of his “daddy” toes was missing a nail and part of it was missing due to a lawn mower accident years before. We sat in his lap after taking off his boots. Every spring, Granddaddy plowed my parents’ garden, and he drove the tractor the five miles from his barn to our house. I rode with him, standing beside the wheel as we rode back and forth. My sister and I rode in the back of his old yellow pickup truck down old dirt roads, and he and Ma took me to town, where I always insisted on Captain D’s, and they always took me. Their house always had (and still has) people coming and going, all filled with laughter, warmth, and love. He and Ma’s presence helped me through many problems, and I am thankful for the good and bad.

A beautiful bench style table sits in my parents’ kitchen fashioned by Granddaddy’s gifted hands, from the pews of church benches our family and other White Springs members sat on for decades. He never sat in a college classroom for a day, but mechanically, his skill was unparalleled. He spent hours under his dusty shed and sawed beautiful items for the family. In spite of his lack of formal education, he spent hours in his recliner reading and studying the bible, books, and the newspaper, and he could recall information and tell a story in true Coleman style. However, there was never anything proud or assuming about Granddaddy. The hot temper from his youth had mellowed, and he served as a Sunday school teacher, deacon, community leader, father, grandfather, and great grandfather.

Grover and Eloise Coleman were married for 68 years, and they were sweethearts to the end. Their young love was stormy. They told the story of Granddaddy wanting a kiss from Ma when they were courting. Ma said no, and Granddaddy threatened to drive the car off the road if she wouldn’t kiss him. She held her ground, and he held his as well, and he ran the car off the road, or so the story goes. As they aged, I saw them hold hands more, their love mellowing into a deeper, sweeter form like a fine aged wine. They became one another’s life. Ma lived to care for Granddaddy as he declined in health, and he lived to see her face every morning. The deepening of their love through the years and the forthright and honest nature of Granddaddy is a legacy I will always treasure and will pass to younger generations I have the privilege to teach.  Thank you God for my Granddaddy, and the legacy of a life well lived.

Spinning Plates, Luscious Ferns, and Grumpy Smurf

Self-help books and cultural messages rarely acknowledge that good attitudes and habits must be cultivated. You don’t read a book, start spinning a few plates, and then watch them spin forever as the universe unlocks for you. Proverbs 24:16 states, “For the righteous falls seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumble in times of calamity.” It doesn’t state,” The righteous does not fall.” It also, doesn’t state, “The righteous falls once,” or “if calamity comes,” but the text clearly states, “the righteous falls seven times and rises again . . . in times of calamity.” Seven times is often the biblical number for a large or even infinite amount of times. The message is clear—everyone falls, but the righteous (we can imply a person who doesn’t give up, here) rises again. Also implicit in this message, is if that if we fall continually and rise each time, we will eventually get it right with a right heart towards God, a good attitude towards life, and a little common sense.

Very few writers of self-help books tell you this. Most writers of self-help books give you a series of steps or beliefs to follow, and claim it will unlock the universe to you forever. And if it doesn’t, there is something wrong with you, your mind, or how you are executing the system they gave you. This seems to be an implied cultural message regarding success as well. Never is it possible that you could believe what they are instructing, that you are following directions clearly and consistently, and that results just don’t come as easily to you as to some.

If you are like me, you spin and spin and read and spin some more, but some of the plates still stall, topple, fall, and shatter. I screw up. A lot.

As stated previously, if you were conditioned with dysfunctional thinking, you have depression or anxiety issues, or you face unique hardships, those are not excuses. They are facts of life, and sometimes they can create added challenges in cultivating an attitude of gratitude, or any other cultivation of positive mental or spiritual habits. Hardships and setbacks are not excuses to be a victim. They are not excuses not to try. They are not excuses to make excuses: “Let us not grow weary, for in due season, we will reap if we do not give up” Galatians 6:9. However, those added challenges can make the road seem longer, the obstacles greater, and the challenge more daunting.

It is important to acknowledge the truth of your situation, without shame. Sometimes you fail. Sometimes you have to try many, many times before you succeed. When you grow slowly, provided you are growing steadily, God usually has a special purpose for you. Only great plants grow so slowly, so that the have deep roots, solid structures, and firm foundations for their great size. For example in the parable of the fern and the bamboo, a little bamboo plant does not form a sprout for many years, while its luscious fern cousins sprout beautiful leaves from the first year. Still, for many years, from the bamboo comes nothing. Until the fourth year, a tiny sprout emerges. Within six months, the bamboo towers over everything in the forest. If the cultivator had given up on the bamboo, it would never grow to its full potential. Those that persist through screw-ups, shattered plates, and slow growth are often the ones who become the greatest.

Everyone has dysfunctions in various areas of their lives, even functional and optimistic people. Some human growth teachings and cultural messages imply shame around shortcoming. For example, some books on the law of attraction tell you that if you do not manifest your intentions, it is because your thinking and feelings are defective, and thus not aligned with your intention, and yet these teachings rarely give you advice on what do to if and when you screw up. Falling short is part of life. Being dysfunctional in one area or the other is normal for everyone. Because these books and cultural messages make it seem like everyone who applies their complete attention and consistency in their practice succeeds, it makes you feel like “less than” when you do not succeed the first time or in the time span you feel you should. These teachings do not give you feedback on how to deal with the messes you make.

In the case cultivating new habits from scratch, you will fail. You will screw up. You will stub your finger while shifting the gears in your old car and yell obscenities about your old piece of $#*% car. Or you will wake up with headache and choose to give God thanks for the day. But it will pour down rain, the dog will get sick, the car won’t start, you’ll spill coffee all over yourself, and your students will talk all the way through class about how boring the lesson is that worked last term, and you will cave to the Murphy’s Law of the day, and be grumpy. We are all human. We all have days like that. And it is okay.

What matters is that we are gentle with ourselves. We are removed from where we need to be when we grumble, curse, and complain. But society has a way of making complainers feel like less than worms, and beating on yourself doesn’t accomplish anything either, so don’t. Don’t give yourself a beating for groaning and grumbling like Grumpy Smurf, growling, “I hate Mondays” and “I hate the rain.” Simply take a step back, look at your situation, change your mind, and move in a new direction. Give your mistake(s) to God, and ask for his forgiveness and guidance. And move on for Pete’s sake, whoever Pete is.

Gratitude must be cultivated, so if things don’t naturally come easy to you, if you are not a natural optimist (I don’t think there is a such a person), or if you have a bad day, so what. It’s okay. Not everyone is a luscious fern or a plate spinner. Some of us start off as Grumpy Smurf. Simply start over now. The moment of transition and grace is an occasion for gratitude--gratitude that you didn’t beat on yourself, gratitude that you learned from your experience, gratitude that you didn’t turn blue like Grumpy Smurf, gratitude that everything is okay, gratitude that there really is so much to be thankful for and you can see it.