Another Star Is Born

Clare Elizabeth Pierson Miller was 12 years old when we came into one another’s lives. Little did I know that answering a personals ad would lead me not only to the man I would fall in love and share life with, but to this beautiful daughter I am now blessed to call one of my own. 

One of the first things I came see in Clare from the very beginning was her ability to weave together the threads of her life into a tapestry all her own. Outwardly this meant that she knew how to create a space for herself that brought order in the midst of any chaos, peace to her heart in the midst of whatever life brought her way, and beauty in the midst of her world wherever she found herself. Her gift of combining form and function results in a home, a wardrobe, and a life that is at once simple and elegant, practical and purposeful.  

When it comes to weaving together the inner fabric of her life, she’s had more practice than many. Given life by one set of parents, raised by another, and sheltered by yet more of us lucky enough to come into her life over the years, she has found a way to knit together both the love and the loss into a life that is authentic and wholehearted. The more she cares about you, the more she will both fight for you and fight with you, because of how much you matter to her.

She loves living large, but hates small things in big numbers, can shuffle and deal cards faster than the most experienced Vegas dealer, but is always the last one to shuffle to the car when it’s time to leave the house, and like me, knows for sure that she is right, especially when she is wrong. 

As a mom I never thought I’d give thanks for Tinder, but when she swiped right for Scott, did she ever get it right. They are a perfect match in the midst of their differences, and they are weaving together a life that will take them to the far corners of the earth and yet never far from home. Motherhood is one of her callings, and she is already perfecting the art of calling out the best in her young son, and calling him out when his one year old self tries to cry his way into some sort of silly shenanigans.

Her innate curiosity leads her way, and invites her to live on an always growing edge of what she knows and what she does not. If she had her own cooking show, which would of course be wildly successful, it might be called I Have No Idea What I’m Doing...Let’s cook. 

Her faith is her own. She knows who she is and what she stands for, and God help anyone who stands between her and those she loves. 

She calls me M2, and if we weren’t connected as family, I know we would have found our way to one another as dear friends. 

Many happy returns Daughter Clare.

Our world and my heart are better because of you. 

The Architect’s Daughter

She knew how to bring out the best in him. Often exacting and distant as a dad in his earlier years, whenever he had the chance to spend time with this daughter of his, all of that seemed to melt away. She had a way of coaxing the boy, who never got to be a boy when he was a boy, to come out and play. Nothing made them happier than playing with materials that others saw as trash and transforming them into treasures. Together, heads bent over a drawing of some dreamed of project, their shared gift of exquisitely combining form and function came alive. A mistake that would once have brought his criticism and a list of what went wrong, became a chance to spend more time to together, covered in dust, figuring out how to get it right.  

The daughter loved the architect for who he was, and extended grace for who he was not, and the architect loved his daughter in all the ways in which he could, never fully understanding the ways in which he could not. In the end, she will remember her love for him, and his for her, as an imperfect thing of beauty and a joy forever.

 With deep gratitude to the architect for the gift of his daughter. 

Where’s My Towel?

This morning at my sister’s house, I stuck my head into the guest bathroom where I thought my husband Tom had already taken his shower, grabbed the unused bath towel on the rack, and headed to the other bathroom to take my own shower.  

I needed a towel.  

The towel was there.

Problem solved.

An hour later as we were packing up our things to load into the car Tom said So I was pretty resourceful this morning, don’t you think? From the quizzical look on my face he must have realized I wasn’t tracking with him. I got out of the shower only to find out that my towel was gone and had to make do with the hand towel. All I could do was laugh and think ‘that’s my girl’. 

Sometimes love just smacks you up side the head. 

The Hole-In-One

This morning I was the featured speaker at the Annual Meeting of the Portland OR Chapter of the LPGA Amateur Golf Association. The title of my message? The Hole in One: Living An Authentic Life. 

Golf...like life...asks three basic questions: 

Where are you now?

Where are you going?

How will you get there?

Question #1 Where are you now? 

Every shot in golf starts with the answer to this question. Getting where we are going requires a clear understanding of where we are now, because it is from here that we must take our next shot on the course, and it is from here that we must take our next step in life. Sometimes everything lines up and we have a clear shot ahead. Then there are those other times when we find ourselves out in the rough, under a tree, or having to play through a difficult hazard. As it states in the rules of golf, we must Play It As It Lies. Whether out on the course or in the midst of life, each of us has to come to grips with the realities of our life by looking squarely at how things are, rather than how we thought they’d be, wished they’d be, or prayed they’d be. To live an authentic life, we must play life as it lies.

Question #2 Where are you going?

In golf we are always attempting to sink the ball in the cup with as few strokes and as much skill as we can. It may take more than one shot, but we always know where we are headed. In life it is meant to be the same. As we line ourselves up to live in synch with what we care about, we gain clarity on where life is calling us, and take steps, one after the other, in that direction.

Question #3 How will you get there? 

In golf it is about taking the next right shot. In life it is about taking the next right step. There are times when the next right step is taken inside our own mind, by unwinding an old story, asking ourself the hard question, or daring to dream of a new possibility. Sometimes we are able to see multiple steps unfolding down the path, and other times only the next step is visible. Either way, the next right step follows the one taken before. Golf is played one stroke at a time. Life is played one step at a time. 

In the event publicity I was described as an avid golfer.

I decided not to correct them.

I have played exactly 18 holes of golf in my life, hit a hole-in-one in the first 9, and decided to quit while I was ahead. But the feeling of sinking the ball in one shot felt then as it does now in my memory. This is how we are supposed to live. 

Like the hole-in-one, the authentic life is the one well played. The one where we connect who we are at our core with how we live out in the world.

May you play it as it lies. 

May you have a clear view ahead. 

May you keep taking the next right step. 

When It Comes Right Down To It

Today I dropped Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle off at NWBDogs for a week while we are out of town. This is the third time we have boarded her there, and while it gave me great peace of mind to leave her in such capable hands, she was beside herself with excitement. She was a quivering puddle of anticipation, and would have launched herself out the window if it had been open an inch or two more. Gracie is one smart girl. In her short little life she has already figured out that when it comes right down to it, it is all about relationships. Her time there in the past has been everything a pup could wish for. She know’s what to expect, and has learned that when she is there she will be consistently treated with respect, care, and concern for her wellbeing. She trusts that she will be well cared for, and so do we. I wouldn’t think of trusting her to anyone else.

Today I dropped my car off at Hosley Eco Auto, the shop we have been taking our cars to for over 30 years. While I may not quiver with excitement at the thought of dropping a few bucks on my car, it gave me great peace of mind to leave my car in such capable hands. Like Gracie, we long ago figured out that when it comes right down to it, it is all about relationships. Our experiences in the past have been everything a car owner could wish for. We know what to expect, and have learned that we will consistently be treated with respect, care, and concern, as will our cars. We wouldn’t think of trusting them to anyone else.

Today was a reminder that relationships are built or broken by the ways in which we treat one another, the consistency with which we show up, and every interaction matters. Take it from Gracie. When it comes right down to it, it is all about relationships.

Detritus

I’m not sure if it is the spring cleaning bug that has hit, but these words keep circling around me today.

Remnants

Fragments

Scraps

Remains

Debris

Detritus

Everywhere I look I find myself wanting to gather up and dispose of any and all things that are left over from an earlier time and chapter. Not the treasures that will stay with me to the end, but those items that no longer serve the purpose they once did. Things that have been saved in case they might be needed someday, and the bits and pieces that have simply disappeared into the background, no longer visible because they are so familiar. Then there are those belongings that hold us hostage to the past. The trappings of a life that is no longer ours. Clearing things out not to make room for more stuff, but to create space for more life.

In hanging on to what was, our hands are not free to grab hold of what is, and to reach out for what could be.

Spoiler Alert

In the age of fake news, it is essential that we are diligent to discern fact from fiction, and information from opinion. It is incumbent upon each of us to search for journalists who fiercely ferret out the truth, and tease the facts out of the rat’s nest of fabrication. When it comes to the news and our ability to make informed decisions, the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth matters. Good journalism is the art of reporting the story in such a way that it shines a light on the truth.

In our personal lives, when it comes to telling a good story, there’s an art to that too. We are story tellers at heart, and we see ourselves in one another’s stories. A story is our own account of events and experiences, not someone else’s recollection. We tell our stories to entertain and inspire, connect and reveal, and a story that isn’t absolutely accurate can still be absolutely true. But have you ever been in the midst of telling a story, and suddenly someone feels the need to correct your telling of it? Nothing kills a good story like a self-appointed fact checker.

I’ll take an authentic story over an accurate one any day, and the next time someone steps in to correct my story, I’m going to try and respond the same way a good friend of mine does.

Now don’t go spoiling a good story with the truth.

Connection

Recently we were given the book reconnect by Steve D. Call, PhD, and I highly recommend it. While there are many points I could highlight here, I will share just one in the hopes that it will pique your interest to learn more. If it does, grab a copy for yourself.

Very , very simply put, relationships are in one of the following states:

connection

disconnection

reconnection

Think about it. Everything is going along swimmingly, and then bam, because of a comment, conflict, misunderstanding, or we just get out of sorts because we’re tired, hungry, or stressed, we suddenly move from connection to disconnection. At that point, the invitation is always to move towards reconnection. In my experience, this happens on both the micro and macro level, and if we accept the invitation to move towards reconnection on the smaller, daily stage, it can go a long way towards avoiding finding ourselves on the big long term stage.

My husband and I are finding it good food for thought to go with our morning coffee. Maybe you will too.

Elking

It’s called Elking. A made up verb that you won’t find in any dictionary, but those of us who do it know exactly what it means. Throw a coat on over your pjs, stick your feet in a pair of Uggs, grab a steaming cup of coffee, hop in the SUV, and head out for a long, meandering drive through the Glenwood Valley to try and spot some elk.

However.

Elking isn’t really about the elk.

It’s about a beloved family tradition that we created together that makes time for connection. On those drives through the valley problems have been solved, weddings planned, questions posed, answers found, forgiveness asked, grace extended, courageous conversations broached, and next steps discovered.

Elking isn’t really about the elk.

Huddled together in the car, heated seats on high and windows open to let in the cold mountain air, we are bound together by our shared stories, family ties, and commitment to one another come what may. We laugh cry, disagree, find our way to common ground, and sometimes, we actually see some elk.

Catching Myself

It’s no secret to those who know and love me that when I get a little too stressed, or tired, or am operating with very little time to myself, I can respond in ways that are less than gracious and kind. It is something I want to change, and have made a commitment to myself to learn to do it differently.

This morning, as a group of us were trying to get out of the house to show up on time for a long anticipated event, it felt like one too many people asked me one too many questions, and out came that sharp, clipped response I’m trying to change. Damn! I heard myself as the words left my lips, and while I wish I could just wish a new way of being into being, that’s not how it works. It all starts with noticing. The more we notice getting it wrong, which is usually what happens at the front end of change, the more we get to practice getting it right.

Catching myself in the act of getting it wrong this morning is one step closer to catching myself getting it right.

Imagining a kinder, gentler me.