• The Vibes of Home

    Home is such a multi-dimensional word.  It conjures up so many images and feelings:  Safety.  Warmth.  Love.   Sometimes it’s the place you grew up, sometimes not.   Sometimes it’s a structure, sometimes a group of friends, or a place.   It is an environment where safety exists and that touches you so deeply there is a familiarity recognized deep within.   It is a place where you feel you simply belong.

    I have, for much of my life, considered San Luis Obipso and the Central Coast home.  It is where I was born, where my family lives, and where I have long felt “rooted”.    I have spent much of my life in other places as well, though, and they offer up a familiarity as well.    It is amazing to me what happens to us when we return to a former home: instant recollections of times you have forgotten and emotions stored away somewhere surface.

    I just returned from a wonderful get away to visit some dear friends in two different states.   The first part of my trip landed me in my old stomping grounds of Minneapolis, Minnesota, where I lived for 6 years while working for WCCO-TV.   I’ve now been back “home” in California longer than I lived in the Land of 10-thousand Lakes (there are actually 11,842 in the state), but the minute I walked off the airplane, I started feeling the “Vibes of Home”.    How many times had I flown in or out of this airport,  stood at baggage claim waiting for some news-maker to come down the escalator so we could get a quote, or eagerly stepped out to passenger pick-up after a trip.   I know this place.  It knows me.

    As I drove toward my destination, I didn’t need a map.   I knew the routes and neighborhoods and businesses.   If felt familiar and friendly.  And when I pulled over to stop at one of my favorite old hang-outs, I was overwhelmed with a sense of joy.    I experienced some wonderful (and yes, deeply painful) experiences in Minnesota and being here again had them floating through my mind like a movie.

    The welcome I received from friends had me feeling like a child returning from a great adventure to her family.   We picked up where we left off, with an eager and enthusiastic game of catch up.    I was introduced to children I hadn’t met yet as “Aunt Jeanette”, and as we sat around and talked we were able to laugh at each other’s idiosyncrasies through our shared time and experiences together.

    I left Minnesota largely not of my own choice.  I was laid off in some downsizing of our recession and I was bewildered by the experience.  It led to a chance to come home to California, though, so I celebrated the opportunity and tried to leave the pain of the losses of that time behind me.  My recent return, however, reminded me of how roots once planted, always exist below the surface somewhere.

    I recalled how lonely I felt when I first moved to Minnesota, how far from home…but how I found a circle of friends who were like family.   I have incredibly fond memories of my time at WCCO, on sidewalk patio’s downtown and at lakeside docks.   I remembered weddings and funerals, adventures and mishaps, and the ways I struggled, grew and blossomed here.   My dog Madelyn’s ashes are scattered around Lake Calhoun, where we walked daily.   And no doubt, some of my DNA is here as well.

    After a wonderful week of catchup and re-connecting, I felt kind of re-rooted to this place I once called home.  At the airport my heart smiled again as the staff at French Meadow Bakery served up a heavy dose of courtesy and kindness with every bagel and breakfast sandwich.   Minnesota Nice isn’t just a saying.  I had forgotten.   I walked toward my gate grateful, lucky enough to experience it, and to know that anytime I visit, I will always feel the Vibes of Home here too.

     

  • Frame of Reference

    It’s amazing to me how our viewpoint does not always reflect any kind of absolute reality.    What we are seeing, experiencing in the same situation can be drastically different than what a friend, relative, or partner is.

    Consider trying to take a picture of the someone standing in front of sunset.   They are likely barely visible in image because the brilliant sun behind them is providing such harsh backlight.   But step around your subject, with YOUR back to the sun and suddenly they are perfectly lit and you have a shot worthy of framing.  The subject hasn’t moved or changed, but your perspective has.  You take a radically different picture.

    I was reminded of the importance of frame of reference this week.    I was heading back up to Tahoe for the weekend and got caught in nightmarish traffic due to accidents.   After 7 hours, I was still only to Sacramento and it was getting late, so I decided to call it quits at a friend’s house in Eldorado Hills just past the capitol city.

    After a deep, hard, wonderful sleep, I woke up cloudy-headed and kind of desperate for coffee.   My friend was working early so left me instructions on how to use her fancy espresso maker.   I read them carefully but got stuck one.

    “I have some fresh ground beans sitting in the grinder in the upper left-hand cupboard adjacent to the oven.”

    I opened that cupboard (and every other one in her kitchen) a half dozen times and saw no grinder.   I know how organized Missy is so I was certain it was somewhere but after a half hour of searching, I gave in and face-timed her at work.   She walked me through it and told me to open one cupboard again.

    “There it is!” She exclaimed.   I still saw no coffee grinder.

    “I’m sorry Missy, I must be losing it.  I don’t see it.

    “The white one right up there to your left.”

    “Oh!  It’s a WHITE ONE!”

    You see, in my cloudy-headed state I was looking for the coffee grinder that looked like the one I have at home.   It’s black.  Hers is white and since I was looking for a black little machine, my mind just didn’t register the white one right in front of my face.

    I was a reminder to me about the perspectives, and lenses we all carry with us into our daily lives.    They frame our experiences today, often based on our past experiences.  My perspective in my quest for morning coffee lead to a relatively harmless blind spot, but if our experiences have included hurt, betrayal, being taken advantage of….guess what we’ll be on the lookout for?   It also often comes at the cost of missing out on something useful right in front of us.

    Ever had a disagreement with someone and argued over the way things went down in a previous conflict?  You swear it happened one way.  They are indignant because they remember it totally differently.   You are both seeing your realities but from different perspectives.   Having a wise friend or counselor can be like me reaching out to Missy on Facetime.   They can offer another perspective.  Do try to steer clear from seeking out counsel from any friend who just wants to be your cheerleader.  You don’t need help finding what you can already see.   You need someone who can offer a different frame of reference and expand or even change your point of view.   “What am I missing here?” Should be the question we ask when trying to resolve a conflict, but too often we are more intent on proving ourselves right.   Just because we can’t see the coffee grinder on the shelf doesn’t mean it isn’t there.   And when you change YOUR frame of reference you may suddenly see your subject bathed in the beautiful glow of a setting sun rather than shadowed and dark because you were standing in the wrong spot to get a bright, brilliant and accurate picture

  • Shred the Gnar

    I keep being reminded to play like a kid. A couple of vivid examples happened in just the last week.

    Gordon, my fiancé, and I love boating up in Lake Tahoe. The first summer after I left KSBY we spent most of our summer days floating on the crystal clear blue of that beautiful body of water. He was recovering from surgery and I was recovering from my latest stint in television news. This summer we are both working more, have our condo up there rented out much more, and are both wondering whether taking the boat out of storage and docking it for the season makes sense. We have been dealing with a bit of option paralysis.

    Last week we were still debating whether to head north and get the “job” done. Gordon called Leon, the free-spirited owner of the boat storage facility who he had talked to several times already that week to say he had changed his mind again. We would wait until after the 4th of July weekend. Here’s how the conversation went from there.

    Leon: “Dude, too late. I already pulled your boat down, got the guys working on it right now. Time to Shred the Gnar Dude.”

    Gordon; “What is Shred the Gnar?”

    Leon: “Dude, are you that old? It’s 4th of July weekend. You know, get out there and get to it. Break some shit.”

    Gordon asked how soon I could be ready and said we were heading north.

    “It’s time to Shred the Gnar.” He told me.

    After a quick inquiry from me, followed by a google search, I learned “Shred the Gnar” has to do with extreme sports…snowboarding, skateboarding, surfing or skiing but to me it’s a fun new commandment to quit taking life so seriously and seize the day. It’s become my new favorite saying for the summer.

    http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shred%20the%20gnar&defid=6348075

    https://www.quora.com/What-does-shred-some-gnar-mean

    We were back in Shell Beach for the actual 4th where for some reason we tend to steer clear of the crowds and craziness and watch the fireworks from a friends house. But this year, we opted to get on our bikes and ride right down into the chaos. Gordon, his son, a couple of friends and I ended dancing our way down to waters edge, lying on our backs with the fireworks exploding right over us. I mean you felt each explosion and it was fantastic! Not quite tearing down a powder-covered mountain, but Shredding the Gnar in our own middle-aged way.

    I got to thinking about how easy it can be to take the easy path to summer and life in general. It takes a little extra coordination to load bikes, boats, or toys of any kind and actually use them to PLAY (you know, like you did as kids) but it’s so worth it.

    As we were riding home (must faster than cars caught in traffic) and my legs and lungs were burning heading up the hill out of Pismo Beach I got to thinking. How many 4th of July celebrations have I missed because I was reading the late news. I remembered how for the last couple we weren’t sure Gordon would even be able to ride like this again. I was overcome with such a sense of gratefulness we made the effort. And a commitment to continue playing like a child as often as possible. Life is short, unpredictable and far too serious for too often.

    So Shred the Gnar Baby!

  • Rediscover Rather than Find Yourself

    I had this saying taped to my mirror for years.   It is so wise and so true, and could make our paths to enlightenment so much easier.    We all, at some point or another, struggle to find answers..   We buy self-help books.  We take classes.  We join groups.  But I believe Glenda the Good Witch in the Wizard of Oz was right.

    We had them all along.

    We just forget as we grow up and life happens to us.

    I think one of the best ways to be reminded of our inner wisdom, to solve a problem that’s been nagging at us, or to help ourselves make a decision we’ve been struggling with, is get outside and play.

    This past week week I was struggling a bit with business plans, projections and projects.   The weekend had arrived and I was feeling like I should spend much of Saturday at my desk again.   But it was a perfect summer day on the Central Coast, and friend of mine asked me to go to a popular beach a short drive from home.  She proposed, however, we do it a bit differently than usual.  Instead of jumping in the car and fighting traffic and parking when we got there, she suggested we ride our bikes.   It was an easy sell as I had my 11-year-old niece and her little friend coming over for the afternoon.

    We packed up the backpacks, bungee-d down the beach chairs and peddled off.   Immediately I recalled the memory peddling off for summer adventures when I was a kid:  It mattered not our destination or timeframe, the minute we made it to the end of our own street, we were headed for summer fun.

    That’s how it felt as we took off for the beach last weekend.   We were able to take a bike path the whole way, so had no worries about traffic, parking or navigating intersections.   We were just cruising.      I looked at my niece and her friend and was moved by their enthusiasm to play.   When I had asked them earlier about riding with us, they simply said “sure” and went to get their bikes.  They had no questions about destinations or plans.   I watched my friend Tarren who is a successful attorney, mother and grandmother peddle away, and saw instead little beach girl enjoying the same sense of adventure.  Her bike was packed up with all the essentials for a fun day at the beach.   I was grinning ear to ear watching it all.  Feeling it all.

    We got the beach, locked our bikes up (just that ritual brought back an inner reminder of childhood adventures) and headed for the surf.   My niece and her playmate couldn’t get their shoes, hats and clothes off fast enough to run to the water.   I watched them jump the waves, squeal and laugh in the surf for hours.  And as I felt the familiar comfort of the warm sand below me, the hot sun above and a light ocean breeze keeping the temperature just right, I thought, “This is the kind of joy we are born with.”  This is the kind of joy we need to soak up at every opportunity.    Even if we aren’t on summer break.

    I think we need to quit trying to figure things out so much and remember what Mom told us when we got cranky, were testing her patience, or whined that there was NOTHING to do.   Remember?   Mine would snap: “Go outside and Play!”  I am learning more each day the wisdom in those words.

     

    Find a way to go play today my friends!

     

    Next week: Shredding the Gnar.

     

     

     

     

  • Messages in the Sand: Spreading magic

    Messages in the Sand:


    Can you remember the thrill of magic? “What?” You ask. MAGIC. Most of us believed in it in some form or fashion as children. Santa Claus. The Tooth Fairy. Our imaginary friends. Coming back to you? Well can you really remember the FEEL of that magic?

    Give it a try. Can you recall that FEELING you had as a child in the days leading up to Christmas morning? Or maybe what it felt like waking up and realizing today was the day, then rushing out to the living room to see what Santa had left. There was a thrill to believing in something as magical as good old St. Nick.

    I was reminded of that feeling recently while having my coffee down at the beach not far from my home. Someone magical in my neighborhood leaves messages in the sand for those of us who will get up early enough to take them in before high tide and beach activity takes them away.

    They are so special to me they will get me out of bed long before my body is ready so that I can run down to see what words of wisdom have been left on any given day. I feel Iike a kid when I begin to rise from a deep slumber, hesitant to even open my eyes, and then it hits me: “Message in the sand! Hurry! Get up!” It feels like it did every Christmas morning long ago.

    The other day I was up especially earl before the sun and cruised down to catch the beautiful transition from night to day. I lumbered over to see the message knowing there was no real hurry as the tide was still very low and no one was up yet to mess up the artwork. I reached the viewing spot and was caught off guard to see the mystery writer in the act. My heart leapt, and there was a moment of panic that I had ruined the magic. I felt exactly like I had caught Santa Claus in the act. I backed quietly away and left him to his work.

    I now know who creates the inspiration for all of us in the beachside community and that’s okay because his messages are still so much fun to get each morning. But that morning I realized the impact a random act of kindness can have on people. The sand-writer has no idea who will see his work each morning, nor does he ask for any recognition. He does it anonymously the messages he leaves behind change the trajectory of days for most who see them. It is a random act of kindness that has a magical effects.


    I don’t think we should let our efforts to create magic go by the wayside after children shed their beliefs in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and other magical figures. What random message of inspiration could you leave for someone today? It doesn’t have to be penned perfectly on a stretch of sand, but scribbled on a card or piece of paper and left on a desk, doorstep or public place. Maybe pair it with a flower or sweet treat. Our lives are so hectic these days, I can’t think of a single person who couldn’t use a little serenity delivered to them now and then. Sign it if you’d like. (Especially if you think your recipient might be inclined to be creeped out by an anonymous gesture.). But you can always leave it packaged beautifully in a public place and addressed to “the next person who uses this restroom” or ask a server to deliver it to their next client when they settle the bill. The point is, to share a little magic with those who have forgotten how fun believing in it can be.