The Tank Can't Be Full All the Time

          As July 4^th quickly approaches I ask . . . where has the summer gone? And when are the local fireworks? And then this year, especially, when are the gas prices going to jump? I brace for the rising prices at the pump. I’ve got a few road trips to see family soon. I’ve been watching the increasing unrest in the Middle East and the holiday weekend. And, I admit, I’ve been trying to time my Kroger Fuel Points. Bending an ear to the local and national news. Perking up every time I hear something about crude oil or an increase in federal taxes on fuel. I’ve even been making mental notes and comparing the gas station postings in neighboring towns making sure I get a full tank before the spike. A tad obsessive, I agree.

            But is there any doubt the price of gas will go up? Do you remember when gas was under $2? It wasn’t that long ago. I speculate it’ll rise quite a bit and very soon. I’ve been trying to keep my gas tank full in my mid-size SUV- that by the way- gets terrible gas mileage. (I know I should have a smaller vehicle, but driving what I have does make me feel safer. No tiny smart car for me.) What I’ve learned lately is that keeping a full tank, or trying to anyway, will drive you crazy. Sometimes my gas gauge reads half-full and obviously sometimes it reads near empty.

            Today, my gas tank is on the negative side of half-way. Literally and figuratively. Sometimes you have to give yourself permission for things not to be perfect. In my case, I need to be okay with the fact my tank isn’t completely full. I know my vehicle won’t run out of gas. I’ll get fuel some way, somehow and I’ll fill up before I need to. And I know that my energy level and happiness will bounce back as well. Don’t get me wrong— I think you need to keep an eye on that measuring apparatus, but don’t over analyze if it isn’t all the way full. You’ll fill up before you reach empty. (Even if you have to pay a few more cents.) And the same is true for life— you’ll bounce back before you hit bottom. So the take away— be aware, but not obsessive. The Tank Can’t Be Full All the Time.

  But may your tank be more full than not . . . at least most of the time:)

Routine Maintenance

I sat yesterday in an automotive waiting room. My vehicle, of course, was getting serviced. I drug along everything but the kitchen sink to try to keep myself occupied. I knew I was in for a wait. Two books, notebook paper, and, of course, my ear buds with my iPhone, fully charged and loaded with my favorite podcasts and music playlist. I was pleasantly surprised when it took just shy of an hour to perform an oil change and place a set of brand new tires on my vehicle.

            Ever since my time in that tiny waiting room I’ve been overwhelmed by my list of routine maintenance. Between myself (scheduling doctors & dentist check-ups, a haircut,and so on), my house, my lawn, and a rental I co-own-- my never ending list seems, well, never ending. When I get a few things crossed off, there seems to be more tasks that make their way back on my list. So I guess I figured it out, life is a cycle of routine maintenance. I’ve decided there’s only one of two ways to handle this:

 1) Enjoy the tasks—

or –

2) Simplify life.

I’m actually trying to do a little of both:), but first I have to go check something off my list.  Happy first day of Summer!

Consider The Power Source

           Edging. The yard maintenance task I least enjoy. Perhaps because I never grew up with sidewalks. When the grass was mowed on a 2 acre piece of property it required mostly riding a tractor and a little trimming with the push mower. Sidewalks and the suburbs involve an edger and definitely a weed wacker. Having the right equipment can make all the difference on a yard or any chore, for that matter.

But today happened to be the day I decided to edge. I have an electric powered edger. Therefore, I also have a fifty yard heavy duty extension chord. The sun was shining, a gentle breeze was blowing . . . it was the perfect summer day to be doing outside work. I connected the power chord into the outside outlet near my front door. My sidewalk leads out to my driveway. I maneuvered through those areas with ease, rolling the plastic tires as the blade dug into the earth. Then I edged the north side of my sidewalk I realized my extension chord was tangled so I stopped and untangled it and continued. I pushed closer to my property line and then the yellow snake pulled tight. I realized it was caught on a bush so I stopped again and moved the chord to give me more length. When I hit my property line I decided I should be a good neighbor and edge the 7 more feet of my neighbor’s sidewalk. And I did. All of it but maybe 8 inches. I tugged and pulled my chord, but I was at the end. There was simply no more slack. This time there were no bushes, no tangles inhibiting my reach. I couldn’t manipulate any more chord. So slightly defeated— I started back the other way leaving the eight inch gap of untouched grass creeping over the concrete.

Edging the rest of my sidewalk, my mind kept drifting to that 8 inches. If only my weed wacker wasn’t on the brink I’d go back and finish that little bit that I couldn’t reach. Or if I had a motor power edger I could’ve gotten it done. Or a longer extension chord. I started thinking about all the things in my life that haven’t seemed to go as planned and how many tasks that haven’t seemed to go as I’d like. Maybe I needed to just let it go. Let go of all those hang ups. Be more content and less ambitious. Be satisfied.

            When I reached the other end of my property I started pushing my edger towards my house. The garage door was open and on the exterior wall half-way back behind a large trash can was an electrical outlet I rarely used and even forgot existed. Problem solved. I didn’t need better, more expensive equipment to get the job done. I just needed to change my power source.  

             Not everyone calls their higher power God, but many people do have a higher power they acknowledge. I happen to believe in God. And I have a relationship with Him, but unfortunately like many relationships (because we’re human and do take others for granted during periods of our lives), sometimes I neglect God, or take God for granted. On occasion I find myself relying solely on myself. Trying to muster all the power I have to do the tasks I feel necessary in my life. Often, I get to the end of “my chord” and think I’m not adequate. I’m not good enough to do this or that. If only I was equipped with more of that trait or this trait I could have exactly what I want and be accomplished. Who would’ve thought this afternoon edging my sidewalks God would’ve sent me a message. “When you’re at the end of your chord, simply . . . Consider The Power Source.”



 

Unfinished Business

In anyone’s life I’m assuming there’s unfinished business. I’ve always been inclined to think it sad that someone may be dying and have a bucket list unfulfilled, letters unsent, or words unsaid to loved ones or friends— that was my thinking until last night. I had an epitome of sorts I’ll call it . . . a single thought where I found wisdom in the midst of an introspective moment.

I have lots of unfinished business— I have a first novel that will, more than likely, not see the light of day for revisions. I have a half-knitted scarf that sits in a basket in my family room by my fireplace. A cross-stitch folded up in my closet. Several sketches of portraits, but one in particular, that I’ve grown frustrated with by my lack of ability to truly capture the essence of a person. I have letters that are unsent and words I have not spoken. Having creations and sentiments unfinished to some may sound like I’ve quit or thrown in the towel. Ah, but that’s where seeing things through a different perspective comes in . . . the unfinished products have been a vehicle for a duration. An investment of time and energy, yes, but they have served their purpose and was what I needed to do at that moment in my life. I need to give myself permission to let go and move on the next novel or the next project.

It appears that every time I convince myself that I need to finish something that deep down I know should be unfinished, I regret it. I muddle through a project just to say it’s done or like yesterday, for example, I tried to say something to someone because I felt like it needed to be said. I tried to explain how I felt about a situation and it came out all wrong. I can’t go back and reword it. I can wish I hadn’t said it, but now it’s said. I’m at the mercy of time to help repair the frankness that might have been too much at the wrong time. A dear friend of mine sarcastically joked with me and asked, “Is everything that happens in your life a lesson?” I do believe it’s healthy to think along these lines, but I’m also not naïve to believe that everything is a lesson. If you really think the something is off in a project and it is unrepairable, or if something you want to say may be taken the wrong way, it’s okay to leave some things unfinished. I wish I would’ve taken my own advice yesterday and I’m taking it now as I put away that sketch. There is such a thing as unfinished business and its okay to leave it exactly where it is.  

 

My Corridor

  

       Everyday I get to go to work I drive through a two mile corridor of a pure country road. I love it! Since the school year has ended I haven't quite taken my daily route as much, but today I was reminded of how surreal that stretch of road truly is.
     The last few months of my journey to school the radio remained off. Those mornings I took in the sites with quiet contemplation. There have been many moments that have taken my breath away throughout the years I've traveled the narrow asphalt. I want to share a couple that transpired recently. One morning there was a shroud of fog that blanketed the area and the light from the sunrise reflected off the vapor. Magnificent. (The picture doesn't do the scene justice, but maybe you can still get an idea of the ambiance.)  And last week when I saw movement across the field and realized it was a lone baby raccoon scampering into the tree line . . . that was another moment that soothed my soul.
     I'm not a 100% country girl, but I do love nature and the serenity it whispers softly to me in the early morning hours. Those whispers remind me of the beauty that surrounds me. Trust you can find your own corridor and you get to hear nature's whispers soon. If you want to share photos of your happy place(s) feel free.

Bolonga

Do people really eat bologna anymore? I mean, I remember as a kid, Mom buying Oscar Mayer Bologna and putting it in lunches for my dad and brother. I was always a peanut butter sandwich person myself.

The nutrition of processed meat aside. . . I do not like the texture or the taste. But this evening I consumed it for my grandmother. I wanted her to eat. And you see at 87-she doesn't  like to eat alone. I don't blame her on that part, but next time I hope we have something else. The sacrifices we make for the ones we love. :) I guess Bolonga is a small sacrifice in the big scheme of life. But, yes, next time grandma, please, something else besides proceeded meat.