Lightbulb Moments from Sharing Sobriety

I recently shared my getting sober story within a fitness group online. It was a conversation that was real and honest and vibrantly highlighted the lessons learned in early sobriety, from the vantage point of where I am now. It was a great experience to be able to articulate why I find sobriety important and how it has positively affected my life.

“So because you got sober, your life is all rainbows and unicorns, right?”

Uh, no. That is not what I am saying at all. And it doesn’t work that way. (Like, at all.) During our conversation, we discussed the idea of the “Before and After”. Everyone loves before/after shots depicting dramatic transformation, be it fitness, dramatic weight loss, or a massive makeover. (Hello Biggest Loser and My 600lb Life) The dad-bod that gets ripped, the former addict gets sober and then healthy in the after picture, and even my own before and afters with fitness and sobriety show tangible evidence of change.

We look at photos like these and two things happen. One, the person viewing them thinks, “Wow. That’s awesome.” Then privately thinks “Good for them, but that’s impossible for me.”

What fails to show up in a before and after is the truth.

The truth in the before and after comparison is that the part that no one sees is the little line that divides the two photos. THAT is where the magic of the messy middle happens. The thin line that separates pre-and post- life – that is where all the blood, sweat and soul excavation happens. In sobriety and fitness, that’s were the real work BEGINS. It’s where the lying to yourself stops and the dealing with your stuff happens. It’s hard workouts, and meal planning and no more justifications on why you ‘deserve’ a break today. It’s where we discover what we are made of, and that we can, in fact, do hard things. We can swim against the current of a culture soaked in booze. That little dividing line that no one pays much attention to, needs to be widened to reveal what it really takes to get to where you want to go. The after shot? That’s a lie, too.

There is no after.

There is no “after,” no arriving at a mysterious destination of pink cloud bliss. Thinking that “one day I will…” fill in the blank with whatever goal is on the horizon. There is no after because once you achieve that goal, it becomes, “Okay, what now?” In our conversation, we decided to not call them Before and Afters, but Before and Durings, and I love that. Before and Right now….but no after.

Another big take away was a truth that has been thrown at me in various ways over the years, but took a long time to penetrate. I first read it in Don Miguel Ruiz’s book The Four Agreements. It was the second agreement to take nothing personally. When I began navigating social situations sans alcohol, there was a fading of some friendships. I wasn’t invited out with friends anymore…..and, it sucked. There’s a grief that happens with the loss of some friendships (more of that dividing line content). Whether it’s sobriety or fitness or some other choice – when we choose a path that we know is our next right step, some people will not join us for the journey. It’s not easy, and can be heartbreaking, but the truth discovered is that I am not responsible for other people’s reactions to my choices. Additionally, those reactions usually don’t have anything to do with me. It’s not my job to make other people okay. It’s my job to do the next right thing that brings me into integrity with who I am.

The universe (God, our conscience, that small voice inside – whatever you want to call it) nudges us in the direction we know we should go. We are really good at burying it. We numb that voice out with substances, ignore it with distractions, consumerism, endless scrolling and all the ways we stuff it down and shut it out. One of those nudgings that kept increasing in volume until I could no longer ignore it was this uneasiness with not only my drinking at the time, but also who I was versus how I was outwardly presenting. Whenever we’d have get togethers, I would come home and exhale – as if I’d been holding my breath all evening. I wasn’t showing up as myself in an authentic way. An introvert by nature, using alcohol gave me a coat of armor to be the extrovert I thought I needed to be. When I first decided to stop drinking, the people I told laughed. Seriously. They laughed in my face and thought I was joking. It ticked me off at the time, but now it makes me sort of sad. The reality was, they couldn’t see a life without alcohol. It was simply preposterous in their minds. By one simple (and difficult) choice, to no longer partake, I took one step into the direction of authenticity. Those friendships I discovered were not to be long lasting, and while it hurt, the chips had to fall where they did. Getting to acceptance of this didn’t happen over night, but it did happen, and over time, I learned that I would be okay.

This led to a chasing of authenticity that I continue to embrace. We all put on various armor to do life. For me, it was “putting on” extroversion. People do it in all manner of ways – artificial nails, make up, hair dye, fancy cars, designer labels, keeping up with the joneses – all the ways we project that the grass must somehow be greener somewhere else. As we take off the armor; lay down the booze, grieve friendships that were not meant to last (and in my case, that included no longer dying my hair and wearing makeup) we become more authentic with who we are. We continue to become who we were meant to be all along.

Stopping a destructive habit isn’t the end point. It’s just the beginning. It’s the spot where we exhale. Where we can be at peace in our own skin and excitedly ask “Okay! What’s next?”

We continue…

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Just Get There!

After writing up yesterday’s adventures, I was in the hotel doing laundry. Going into to switch the load to the dryer, I discovered that someone had graciously moved my wet things to the top of the dryer and put their clothes in. (There was only one dryer.) 11pm is not when I want to be doing laundry so I asked the guy standing there if he’d moved my things, he said that yes he had and mumbled some excuse. Not looking to start a fight with a dude in a hotel laundry room, I grabbed my wet clothes and went back to the room.

They were mostly dry by morning and the things that weren’t could get washed at the next stop or at home. Back to the laundry bag they went!

Leaving Sonoma, the temps were comfortably cool. San Fransisco and the Golden Gate Bridge here we come…

I thought the GPS had me going to a great lookout spot with which to snap a few pictures of the bridge, however I was wrong. It took me OVER the bridge…that was socked in with fog. So even if I had gotten to the spot I was thinking of, I likely wouldn’t have been able to see the bridge anyway. It was very cool, but in hindsight, probably a good thing that it was foggy as I am not great with heights and bridges anyway.

Traveling through some residential areas (aka getting lost, but kind of okay with it), I was reminded of the Full House houses and how cool it would be to check them out. Looking it up, I was only 3 miles away so we zipped over. And by zipped over, I mean I stop-go-stop-go-stop-go’d our way over as there are stoplights every 20 feet. I made it to the street, looked up and saw others taking pics too, snapped mine and went on my way. (There’s little parking so I didn’t pull over). I didn’t look at the camera until later and laughed. Beautiful tree, though.

Traffic was nuts so this is what I got 🤣

Seeing San Fransisco was great, but I was ready to be out of the city and looking forward to the drive on the coast. Hitting Hwy 1, we meandered our way through gorgeous coastline down toward Monterrey.

The logistics of getting in and out of hotels with dogs isn’t a huge deal until it gets hot. Through the Pacific Coast, and even in the Redwoods, temps have been warm, but not alarming. I got a snazzy waist belt with hooks to attach the dogs to me while checking into hotels. Once checked in, no biggie. Bring in the stuff…bring in their stuff – easy peasy.

But…..

Throw in scorching temps, searing asphalt and breathtaking humidity and it’s a whole other ball game. I cannot leave the dogs in the car to zip in and use a restroom or check into the next hotel. I had planned one more stop in Ventura but decided to just push through and got home to my people late last night.

Gas stop temps – TOO HOT!

Ironic that I need time alone from time to time, but after a couple of days recharging, couldn’t wait to see my people. LA traffic is not my fave, but I did it, and was reminded that I am out of practice driving assertively. Although I’m sure it will come back in no time, I’m happy to let Eric drive for a while and will gladly occupy the passenger seat…at least for a few days!

Trees Please!

There were some specific things I wanted to do this trip. Getting to see the beautiful trees of the Redwood forest has been a bucket list item for me for as long as I can remember. The forest and evergreen trees in particular draw me in like a magnet. Much the like ocean, being in a forest is a holy experience.

I woke up this morning in Grants Pass, Oregon. I was joined in my shower by an arachnid. (A decidedly NOT holy experience!) I screamed, finished up and promptly exited the bathroom. (Seriously?!!! How do they find me!?)

Throughout Grants Pass, the town has bears all over dressed/decorated in all sorts of outfits and/or paint. Kitschy, but charming, I snapped some pics as my mother loves all things “road-side oddity”.

Dutch Bros!

After gassing up, (and quickly reminded that we don’t do self serve gas in Oregon – whoops!) I had to see what all the fuss was about with Dutch Brothers Coffee. I have to say, I’m a fan – it was delicious and not hotel coffee.

Caffeine loaded, dogs walked and fed, we were on our way! Hwy 101 – aka The Redwood Highway all the way to the magic of the forest!

I had to stop a bazillion times. I couldn’t resist taking in these amazing views and savoring every second. (And yes, the dogs like to pee at every stop.) What I had in my mind was taking the dogs for a trail walk, hoping for some that would allow dogs. When I turned off to the Avenue of the Giants, I kept seeing no dogs allowed signs. Finally I broke down and looked it up and sure enough – none of the trails in the Avenue allow dogs, leashed or not. Sigh. We’d just have to figure something else out. In the mean time, I took a TON of pics from the car, from outside the car, from the side of the road…you get the idea.

After crossing the state line, the fog was thick. I came around a curve and there to my right was a lookout that sucked me right off the road. SAND! REAL SAND! Not a barnacle in sight! Waves! Crashing water over the rocks made a perfect welcome back to California.

Sea air inhaled and sandy beach tromped through, we headed off to our first destination: the Paul Bunyan and Babe statues at the Trees of Mystery. (Yes, I too, am a sucker for random things – I get it from my mother who tortured me with these kinds of stops! 🤪)

There’s a dude that voices/interacts with the crowd! Hilarious! I want that job!

Since the Avenue of the Giants did not allow dogs, I drove back up to the 101 to see if there would be a campground or other pullout to be able to walk. (See? I’m already gettin’ my Californian on with “the 5, the 405, etc. 🤣) At the Huckleberry Campground, we pulled in and I asked what the fee was for a day use pass so I could walk the dogs. The attendant said I could go ahead and park and take my walk free of charge! Perfect! One thing that kept jumping out at me was how quiet it was in the forest whenever I stepped out of the car. Despite traffic and lots of people, the trees insulate sound remarkably well. It would be easy to get lost in this otherworldly place.

The temps were much cooler and more comfortable as we drove to the next destination: The Drive Thru Tree! To be fair, there are a few of these trees in the Redwood forest, but the one I wanted to drive through was the one I’ve seen in black and white pictures. The tree with a square cut out of it!

It was pretty anticlimactic. Everyone lines up, drives through slowly, and out the other side….right into the gift shop. As you can plainly see, the dogs were tremendously excited.

Down the road 2 hours later, we pull into our hotel stop in Sonoma. Sonoma is beautiful, and after all the lush foresty goodness, it was lovely to see a giant palm tree! The cookie, of course was delicious and the dogs definitely approve of tonight’s accommodations. (And after my shower with an 8 legged friend this morning – this is just what the doctor ordered!)

Rejuvenation

“There is magic in the presence of trees,” I mused, inhaling the damp freshness surrounding us. Walking in our rain boots through the lush forest, my daughter happily chatting to her art teacher, I took as many mental images as my senses could hold. I left my phone back in the car when we pulled up (silly me).

This teacher is more than a teacher to Hannah – she’s her FAVORITE. “Mom! Mrs. O’Connor has a real studio!” she exclaimed at the beginning of her first art class last year. “She’s a teacher AND a REAL artist!” We were able to see her work in a local art show last fall and she graciously invited Hannah to come see her studio. To say that Hannah was excited was an understatement.

After the studio tour, Mrs. O’Connor took us all around her lovely space, surrounded by acres of forest land. (Half way through our walk, we stopped and grabbed our cameras!) Having lived here for a few decades, she can imagine living no where else – and it’s clear to see why! It really was a slice of heaven – and a rejuvenating day spent captivated by Mother Nature’s spell.

Teachers: never doubt the impact you have on your students. Read that again: Please do not doubt that you are impacting your students in ways you may never know. (Seriously the last couple of years – whew!) From this mama to one very special art teacher – I thank you especially for taking the time and sharing your gifts. You are a treasure!

The Sun

On the back porch bundled up with a morning cup of steamy goodness, I admire the sunlight dancing on the water. There is nothing quite like reveling in a radiant morning. Daylight is an ever-diminishing premium as the days get shorter in the fall. As spring sets in, the long daylight hours never come fast enough. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I never thought much about it, it was a fact of the seasons. Living in other areas of the country opened my eyes to seasons in ways I didn’t expect. What do you mean there are seasons?! The glorious fireball in the sky can shine in more than 2.5 months of the year?! You don’t say!

The years spent living elsewhere have diminished my ability to withstand gloomy winters. I have read about the benefits of blue lights and even had one last time we lived here 8 years ago. Many moves ago the light gifted to someone else, I’ve not felt the need to replace it. Layering up long pajamas, the natural blue light enters my retinas. The sky, enhanced by a soundtrack of the loudest morning birds, showcases the area. The beauty of the PNW is often hiding behind a blanket of murky, low hanging clouds that threaten all manner of precipitation..

I love the quiet before the bustle of the day begins. The moment to just exhale and be. I crave these moments like oxygen. I need sunlight. This landscape is gorgeous, but this doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Come on warmer, sunny days! I’ve missed you!

Cancelled

Spring

Rebirth

Renewal

Humanity

Faith

Community

Family

Joy

Love

Spring

Hope

~ none of these are cancelled.

The frivolous extra is.

Formal clothing, a building, hats, matching shoes, baskets, colored eggs, the have to’s, the should’s, the busy and unnecessary are all stripped away.

Essentials only.

Spring is not cancelled

The Church is not a building.

Easter is not cancelled.

The Tomb is empty.

 

Day Fiftyteenth: I don’t even know anymore, and does it really matter?

I have basically been at home (with about 3-4 outings for essentials) for 39 days. (The minions were ill 2 weeks before the stay at home orders in our state were put into effect). In these 39 days, I’ve learned a couple of things about myself. I consider myself an introvert, with a few extrovert tendencies. I cherish alone time – not only that, it is essential for functioning. If a solo recharge doesn’t happen on the regular, shut down is guaranteed. Being amongst the peoples drains me. Through this craziness I find I am in fact the “chatty-chat monster” that the minions have long-accused me of being. Who knew I was such an extrovert?! I will talk the ear off of a random person in the checkout line, the checker, the bagger, the checker 2 aisles over – they are adults; let’s converse the day away! I apparently have no shame. Now? Oh man, do I miss the niceties and courtesies that we all share when conducting our everyday business. 

I have been craving the creative. Photography, sewing, writing, and of course art projects with the kids have been recent channels of expression. Blocks of time to fill with no must-do’s create an enormous vacuum, and Netflix, internet surfing and mindless activity will only take us so far. Creativity has been heart-filling and anxiety-dampening.

Nature hasn’t been forgotten, simply not prioritized. I crave nature like oxygen. Hiking, biking, running, walking the dogs, even standing in the back yard and feeling the soft blades tickle the arch of bare feet – it all satisfies. I feel the presence of the divine when lost in my thoughts while lost in nature. More often than not, magic happens when in that space. Not magic in the slight of hand way, but what I call “Universe Winks”. Things like butterflies landing on my shirt, that are more than just “woo-woo”, and far more than coincidence.

Whales are common in Puget Sound. But, in most of my life living here (save a few years of duty stations elsewhere) I have never seen them in the wild. Neighbors had been posting that they’d “seen the whales playing out behind our circle”. I would rush out, and by the time I’d arrived, the whales evidently thought it was time to hide. Disappointed, I would return home. My daughter and I walked along the trails that border our neighborhood looking expectantly for any signs of whales. Lots of seagulls, which I also adore, but no whales. Countless times I walked out expecting to be awed, praying for a “moment”, then immediately chastising myself for asking for something so trivial when I have already been given so much. I felt greedy hoping for more. On one of these outings, an eagle flew right into viewfinder of the camera.

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Seriously, how could I desire more with the beauty that already surrounds where I live?!

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This is a 2 minute (if that) walk from my front door.

pmgudo2xTTmz2vElQEFsAgfullsizeoutput_1af2But, that is human nature though, isn’t it? We struggle with desire versus contentment. Learning to be content is the key to true happiness. I continued to walk out to the water and desire more.

fullsizeoutput_1b56And then it happened.

The Universe not only winked, it wrapped me up in the best fluffy-sweater, cozy-warm, first-cup-of-coffee-in-the-morning, sun-beaming bear hug. Turns out that sobbing uncontrollably while playing photographer is as hard and awkward as it sounds! Wiping tears off of the view finder while whispering prayers of thanksgiving for such gifts that are not deserved-yet bestowed with flair and grandeur-the camera click-clicked away attempting to capture one of the most breathtaking moments.

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Incredibly close to shore! And directly in front of my shore-front driftwood seat!

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Heeeeeeyyyyy!

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fullsizeoutput_1b70Not only did I witness a whale, but TWO whales. Oh Universe, you are so extra and I ADORE YOU!

Thank you isn’t enough. But it is what I have.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

❤️

 

 

Deep Images….with Jack Handy

You know that SNL sketch where the verbiage of a “deep thought” with the Jack Handy voice over lays out a bunch of nonsense? That plays out in my brain in real life whenever I am on a solo bike ride or run or walk with the dogs. I think my best deep thoughts while in my head doing physical activity – a sort of moving mediation. More often than not much of it is gibberish and/or forgotten once off the trail.

In an effort to recapture some of the thoughts, I brought my phone along and captured some images. I took about a bazillion photos and since this isn’t an amateur photography blog nor a living room where people are subjected to torturous hours of viewing Aunt Linda’s vacation slides, I will spare you all of them. Still, there are a lot of photos, so you are forewarned. Just know that I did make an effort to not include them all to bore you endlessly. **(Although, if you are reading this within a week or two of it being published, you have nothing better to do because you are quarantined with your family and need an escape. You. are. welcome.)

To change up our routine, I walked with Hippo solo today while the hubby took care of the littles. If you are new the blog – we have three dogs. (Correction: we have two dogs and a Hippo (the middle photo) and if you knew him you’d understand.)

The Hippo is a giant goober. I love him to pieces. Today was the first time he’d walked a long walk with me since his 2 knee replacement surgeries over a year ago. (He’s now Titanium Hippo!) We took it nice and slow and sniffed all the things and ate lots of clumps of freshly mown grass despite the fact that I told him not to. He pretended not to hear me.

“What? Did you say something? I was busy sniffing.” Uh. huh.

Walking or running around this area one must always be on the lookout for deer (there are tons!) or eagles (they fly all around and low!) and even whales have been spotted in our little inlet (haven’t seen them myself but I keep trying)! We didn’t see any eagles, but did see tons of seagulls and this guy:

He flew right over our heads and it was AMAZING. After looking it up (because president of the Audubon society I am not) I learned that he is a Great Blue Heron. Super common apparently. What is not common is to be ready with the camera at the same time as the launch of a flyover. Nature and wild life are amazing and I always come away grateful for the universe winks.

We saw (and smelled) loads of evidence of spring. The colors were vibrant and gorgeous and the cloudy day made for nice photography. I love seeing little flowers and daffodils and the Indian paintbrush native to this area bloom. Spring is always the season of hope, and this year the need for it is amplified.

Maylor Point trail is stunning and a quick escape from my house while ensuring social distancing. From my doorstep, down the trail and back was 4.5 miles of nature and solitude for which my heart and head were in desperate need.

Dog photography is not for the faint of heart. I don’t carry treats much (mostly because I forget) so I have to be quick when the shot presents itself! Luckily today Hippo was (mostly) cooperative. Except for that one selfie, which made me giggle because SQUIRREL.

I love playing with filters, color, and black and white photography. Partly because of the COVID19 quarantine, and due to the weather, it is eerily quiet. The old buildings, rundown tennis court, and not-oft used recreation areas on the military base make for great apocolyptic-esque subjects.

What an accurate photo for our current slower pace of life. We actually have SO. MUCH. TIME. Quarantine or not, it’s the same 24 hours each day. What we do with those hours makes all the difference.

There is a large number of deer that roam this little peninsula. The come out like clockwork and while not tame, are very used to people. They nibble and watch us take photos of them, probably wondering why we are so odd. Hippo still thinks they smell weird and would love to investigate further, but they are bigger than him so he is secretly glad I make him stay on leash.

For the folks who have never been to the Puget Sound, this would constitute a “beach”, albeit somewhat loosely defined. The white things stuck all over the rock on the left are barnacles. Barnacles are little arthropods (related to crustaceans) and they are abundant here! They also hurt bare feet so no kicking off the flip flops. (Not that you’d want to wear flips because brrr cold.) The thing you won’t see in abundance here is sand. Rocks are however everywhere and really, aren’t they just larger grains of sand? Technically I guess we can let it be called a beach even though you won’t find many people in bathing suits rushing to take a dip.

The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

Author disputed, but credited to Mary Stevenson 1939

There is no question that a dog can carry us through hard times. It is often said that it’s no coincidence that dog is God spelled backward. While I don’t worship my dogs, they are exquisite examples of unconditional love and acceptance, patience, and understanding. This is my visual take on the poem, Footprints in the Sand. (You can read it in its entirely here: https://wallpapersafari.com/footprints-poem-wallpaper/).

This concludes the tour of random deep (and not so) thoughts. Thank you for coming. Please gather your belongings and watch your step as you exit.

And don’t forget to wash your hands. ❤️

The Magic of Home

Eric and I scanned the last of our earthly belongings comparing it with the quickly deteriorating space in the truck and had to make some fast decisions.

“The chairs are going, aren’t they?” I asked, knowing full well the answer.

“‘Fraid so,” he said.

All of our belongings in a 26′ truck

I turned away when I saw him briskly carry the happy blue pair to the spontaneous free yard sale accumulating at the edge of the curb. They’ll be happier here in the warm San Diego sun, I thought. Good thing we are doing this before school lets out, as there will be lots foot traffic to carry away the things we cannot take with us. The little boy that yelled exuberantly about his new-to-him bike as he rode it away made me grin. Jake had been eating his knees on that bike for a few months now and it was time to let it go anyway. That’s what the song says, right? Let it go, let it go…..

It’s just stuff.

I stopped short when I saw our aqua Adirondack chairs nestled happily in their new yard. It was bittersweet giving them away. It was bittersweet walking the dogs this very last time in our San Diego neighborhood. I breathed it in. I noticed all the palm trees, took in the view down toward Mission Bay, and closed my eyes and sighed as the sun warmed my skin.

We started on our adventure a half day behind as we had some finishing up at the old house to complete. One last check of the mail box, roll up the garbage and recycling cans, and turn over the keys.

We had big plans to make it up to Washington in three days. With 3 dogs, 2 kids and me who gets what I call “car-koleptic” (extremely tired when driving in the rain) we knew our plans were way too aggressive. Once again I was reminded that I could never be a long haul trucker.

As California’s terrain changed from desert, vineyards and then finally to forested mountains, I found myself awed by the beauty of it all. I pointed out things to the kids. Miraculously the sights were stunning enough to tear their eyes from their iPods. “Ohhhh, wowww….” could be heard from both of them. I forgot just how little they were when we left this part of the country. “They don’t remember,” I thought sadly. Climbing higher into the mountains, and into Oregon, I chuckled when the car sounded an alert as the temperature was now below 40 degrees. This alarm came complete with a cute flashing snowflake on my dashboard. Poor car has never seen anything below 60 degrees! I tapped the dash and murmured, ‘Good little car, you’re doing fine!’

I grew up in the Puget Sound, but after moving out of state the first time, I was shocked by the heat and the humidity of Florida. “So that’s what that ball of fire in the sky is!” I joked when regaling people of the transition to the Sunshine state from the renowned rainy Seattle area. I have loved living all over the country, and yes, Hawaii has ruined us for all states. There is just something about the Pacific Northwest. It pulls me back in ways I can scarcely describe.

I tend to agree with Bon Jovi. Who says you can’t go home? Maybe not the way it was, but a place makes you who you are in ways that are non-tangible. Living away has given me a perspective that would not exist if I’d never left. There is breathtaking beauty here. The allure of the forests, the captivating mists – it’s magic pure and simple.

Hannah’s camera was clicking fast and furious as we traveled. I was curious what gems may be hidden on her device when she was reluctant to let me see. She had been working furiously on something, but promised she would share it with me when she was done.

Hannah’s project

Make no mistake, there is a kind of magic here – and I believe it has enchanted my daughter.

The Path

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Sometimes the path is rough. It’s not laid out like you may have planned.

Improvisation may be necessary.

That broken log? That’s just a way made by those who have gone before you. Be grateful.

See those rocks? They may look like stumbling blocks, but they may also be in just the right place to get you where you need to go.

Those pilings to the side? Perhaps the road not taken; for reasons we may never know.

The water may be cold, but how will you know if you don’t even try?

Can you make it to the other side? Can you take a chance? Even if the entire plan is not laid out for you to see?

Just try…

You are more capable than you believe.

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