My Utopia

I remember when my son was young and played soccer. At the end of the season everyone got a trophy. It didn’t matter how many games you won or if you ever contacted the ball during the game, everyone on the team got one. The kids loved it.

I loved the idea of learning a sport in a non-competitive environment without having to make winners and losers out of five year olds. Some of the more competitive parents scoffed at this saying “the kids know who won and lost.” Throughout the years after every sporting event my son participated in, and there were many, win or lose I told him “Good Game,” which he informed me that kids hate. But that did not deter me.

My favorite sport was middle school track. So many children came out and ran and jumped and had fun. There were events for every talent from dashes to long distance to high jumping to long jumping. Somehow we were blessed with coaches who managed to instill in our kids that the person they were competing was their “personal best.”

Winning was great, but beating your “personal best” was an equally celebrated accomplishment. I wish we could all carry that attitude with us throughout our lives. Then we would stop comparing our accomplishments to other people’s and measure our success by what really counts “our personal best.” That would be my utopia.

Do Rae ME

Believe in yourself. You hold the power. Change the channel, turn the volume up or down or off. It’s completely up to you.

People search for happiness when happiness is found simply by living authentically. Tiptoe out of the shadows and give voice to your own light. Share yourself honestly and humbly and you won’t have to go looking for happiness and peace, they will find you.

When you stop listening to someone else’s soundtrack and make your own beautiful music, even if others might think it has a little too much cowbell, your spirit WILL sing.

Can you tell I’m excited!!!

Very soon, I will become a grandma for the first time! Her name will be Sophia. There she is in her beautiful mother’s tummy with my adoring son leaning in closely.

I have been told this is a joy like no other. That I will look into this child's little face and be overwhelmed to know that I will be a part of her life forever. I will also get to experience all the happiness my own child feels becoming a parent. WOW!

I get all the good stuff like spending time with her, helping care for her and loving on her (kiss kiss) but still get a good night’s sleep.☺

My current dilemma is what to call myself? Am I her Nana, Nonna, Grandma, Ma Ma, Gi Gi or the host of other choices? In today’s society grandparents are opting for names that express their own uniqueness.

For Bob it was easy. He’s opting for BABA. It’s usually one of the first sounds/words babies say. I am considering Carenu (pronounced care-new). My nephew Augie called me this when he was a baby. I’m guessing that he heard the “N” sound on the end of Caren as “nu”.

My mom was always Grandma Sara to my son. I wanted him to know her as a person with a first name, too.

I’m sure when the time comes I’ll know who I am. Until then…do you have any ideas for me?

Surrender Is Not a Cinch

A part of what I am learning and writing about is surrende. Not surrender as in defeat, surrender as in acceptance of “what is.” Living without the expectation that things should be different than they are.

Some say that when you stop needing something you get it. That seems to cynical to me. I think that when you release your attachment to needing something, you may still want it, it often manifests.

Here’s an example. You’ll laugh when you realize that this is about Cinch glass cleaner. I have love, love, love this cleaner. The smell is so clean and it doesn’t streak and leaves countertops sparkling, need I say more.

Last winter the two stores where I buy it stopped carrying it and couldn't special order it for me.

So what did I do? I Googled searched it and found it was available but only to large janitorial supply customers. So I forgot about it for a while, but like a pesky itch, I knew that I would eventually scratch it again.

This week I could resist no longer. Again I Googled it. This time I found it from an online retailer but the shipping costs were more than the product. I have an aversion to that, so I bailed. I decided that I was delaying the inevitable, I surrendered.

But didn't completely give up. I found a website that told me that the main ingredient in Cinch was (Isopropanol a.k.a alcohol) and they listed a glass cleaner with Isopropanol in it.

With the surrender to my obsession with Cinch behind me, the hunt was on for the new similar formula product. Some might say this was a replaced obsession, and they could be right. After searching in five different stores, I began to doubt this product’s existence. I decide to check one more store before surrendering completely.

I scan the shelves, no sighting of the new product, damn. I turn to leave and the heavens open and choirs of angels sing and out of the corner of my eye glowing on the bottom shelf I SEE CINCH! I am so excited you would think I’d won the lottery. This orange trophy is more valuable to me than an Academy Award. I buy all the bottles I can carry (four).

I need to practice this surrender thing. My Cinch quest lasted six months, that’s a long time to devote to a glass cleaner, but in my defense it isn’t just ANY glass cleaner.