Posted in about me, ebb & flow, motivation

Do something for you

Tomorrow, May 1, I am celebrating six months of writing and posting every day.

I have always loved writing, even as a kid.

I was always redirected to math, and maybe internalized some of the “you’re not very good at writing.” Though I’m not sure that was true, necessarily. <shrug> I don’t know.

I did creative writing off and on from elementary school into college. I took a creative writing class in the summer after 8th grade, an independent study in creative writing in 10th grade, and a creative writing class my freshman year of college.

I’ve kept journals and diaries. I’ve written a bajillion letters, cards, emails. This is my fourth blog.

But outside of courses, I’ve never prioritized it. Until now.

Writing gets done daily (though typically what I write today is not what you read today). Not all of the writing is great—nothing done daily is done at the same level daily—and honestly, there are a few posts that I hope aren’t The One Post that someone comes across and judges my whole blog by.

Even with not all of it being to my standards, it feels good to write, to have a routine, even in the midst of everything else that’s going on in life. (And there certainly is plenty.)

It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. And the longer the streak goes, the more painful it would be to break it.

It helps A LOT that The Climbing Daddy is supportive. Because writing takes time, and sometimes the time is inconvenient.

So my invitation to you is: what can you add to your life that would make it better? What one thing have you maybe kept on the back burner for who knows how long that would warm your soul to get back into your life?

Pick a thing. Make it a do-able thing (read: not something that takes hours a day, unless your world is very different than mine). And do it.

Do it. Pick a thing and incorporate it into your routine. Make it part of your life.

What are you going to choose? Reply and let me know!




Posted in mindset, motivation, thoughtfulness, vulnerability


I saw this meme the other day. (I don’t know who to attribute it to, though the saying is widely said.)

And while it’s true, you can’t do it all now, either.

Many (most? all?) of us spend a lot of time on things that aren’t important (games, mindless scrolling, unintentional TV watching, etc.), and as a result “don’t have time” to do things that are more important.

(I’d argue that’s an energy issue, not a time issue, but that’s a separate post.)

So things don’t get done.

But there’s also the issue of avoidance. Of fear of failure or ridicule. Of lack of confidence. These are the bigger reasons things don’t get done.

That’s all the baggage that the meme was talking about (in my interpretation).

But there’s the flip side. Using myself as an example…

Someday, I would like to:

  • swing dance well (I’m mildly competent currently)
  • be somewhat fluent in several languages, including Spanish and ASL, maybe go back to German
  • be good at photography
  • have a book published
  • do pullups
  • do a TED talk
  • do other public speaking
  • learn basic woodworking
  • have my house in order
  • salsa dance well (I’m really bad at it—this will take a teacher with a lot of patience and skill)
  • hike the Grand Canyon rim to rim

And on and on. That’s what I could think of off the top of my head.

There’s no way I can pursue all of that right now, regardless of when “right now” is. Some of it is getting attention now.

Photography had been on my list for years and years, and it’s finally seeing light of day. I have a “real” camera now and have messed around with it some. Although it’s made its way up the priority list, it’s still not at the top.

I work. I have a husband and a kid and friends. I write here and am working on the book. I exercise, cook food, get close to enough sleep most of the time. We live in a house that needs cleaning. I have a garden in the back yard, as well as the rest of the yard that refuses to be just a dirt lot. (Oh, how I wish it would be just a dirt lot.)

The time that’s left? Sometimes I give it to one of the things already getting time. Sometimes I give it to photography. Sometimes I give it to drawing or trying calligraphy. Sometimes I give it to reading. Or playing games. Or playing ukulele. Or digging up more freakin’ Bermuda grass.

Prioritize. Figure out why you’re stalled on some things and get moving on the ones that are important. Or fit. Or you’ll regret not doing. Or have limited window of opportunity.

But some things? They have to go on the “someday” list. Even if social media tries to tell you otherwise.

Posted in about me, ebb & flow, follow-up, meandering

Sometimes, things work out

Yesterday, The Kid had his last track meet of the season.

Because it’s hot here now, the meet started at 7 instead of 8. Call time remains an hour before the meet starts. Yesterday’s meet was just over half an hour’s drive from here. I was up at 4:30.

Early morning temps were nice, but it didn’t take long before we were baking. All of the stadiums we’ve been in, the fields run north-south and the home bleachers are on the west side (facing east). Which means that even with our handy oversized umbrella, we’re in the sun for much of the morning.

Once the sun was high enough, we had shade (hooray!) but it was a little stuffy under there.

Anyway. The point is, we were up early, and it was toasty.

His events (two track and one field) were clustered, so the down time was almost all front-loaded. For the first time ever, we were done before 1:00.

Once the meet was done, we came home and had late lunch. I took a nap; The Climbing Daddy and The Kid did other things. I woke up feeling better than when I laid down but still wiped out.

This is the point in the story that connects with the second piece.

A year ago, I volunteered at a competition at my local climbing gym.

I decided that I wanted to climb in it this year. (Upcoming links are all to previous posts with more detail about this journey.)

I learned how to boulder (though I was not at all good at it).

This year’s comp, we had to do three mini-comps to be eligible.

I did two before finding out sad news, and didn’t pursue the third.

It turns out, the final competition—the main event—was yesterday. Climbers reported to the gym at 3, I think (might have been 4).

If I had decided to continue I would have had a bouldering competition late yesterday afternoon. At nap time.

So while I was really disappointed in February when I found out the comp wasn’t what I wanted, I was really happy yesterday not to have to go attempt to climb competitively.

(And the four of us ended up splashing around in the pool for an hour, then The Climbing Daddy and I went for a tired-but-necessary run, and those were better than bouldering any day.)

Oh! And the photo? A giant dust devil we saw on the way home from the track meet.

Posted in exercise, gratitude, mindset, motivation, physical health, thoughtfulness

Gratitude for more than health

A few years ago, I was doing a 10k and was maybe a little undertrained. (What?! Never!) Was running it with a good friend and we knew we’d have a good time, even if we didn’t have a good time.

Somewhere around mile 5, I got a text from the guy I was dating at the time:

Hey! As you make progress toward the finish line think about how really lucky you are to participate in that 10k. In the grand scheme of things it is pretty cool. It means you’re healthy enough, financially secure enough, living in a place that can safely put on a big event like that. It’s a good way to spend a free morning. Lots of people all over would love to be in your shoes, feeling what you’re feeling. It’s pretty cool. Hope you’re having fun!

I’ve often been grateful for good health and mobility, not just in the context of running. But he added extra layers that I take for granted most of the time.

So if you’re out this weekend, particularly at something you’re maybe less than excited to be at (I’m looking at you, track meet!), soak in some of his good thoughts about all of the other variables that we take for granted to make it possible.

But it’s also a reminder of one of the reasons I move it move it: because I can.


Posted in meandering, vulnerability

Ever have a song blindside you?

I was listening to a podcast with Norah Jones. At the end, she sang two songs.

Now, to be honest with you, I rarely focus much on lyrics when I’m listening to a song for the first time (or most of the time). I have a lot of trouble understanding the words (partially due to how music is, and partially due to hearing loss), and so it’s much more enjoyable for me to just listen to the whole thing and not try to focus on lyrics.

So because of that, I was caught off guard when I started understanding the words.

The song was The Grass is Blue, a Dolly Parton cover. In that link, she sings it with piano, but in the podcast (at about 1:28), she accompanied herself on guitar.

The chorus:

Rivers flow backwards
Valleys are high
Mountains are level
Truth is a lie
I’m perfectly fine
And I don’t miss you
The sky is green
And the grass is blue

It kicked me in the gut. I cried. (I definitely didn’t hear the second verse.) I have no idea why I was so sad; I don’t know who I was missing. (There are a lot of people it could be.)

If I had listened to the first verse, I wouldn’t have been surprised—it talks about a break up—but I didn’t, so I was.

I’m not surprised by it any more, but it still makes me teary. I wonder what it’s poking at in me…

(Dolly loved Norah’s cover; they performed the song together at the CMAs in 2003.)