Where Is The Tumbleweed...

 

My daughter just returned from a trip out west with her Grandma and aunt. Before they left, she asked what she’d see out there so I described the miles and miles of Kansas and the Colorado mountains and lakes. I said she’d see cows and maybe even a tumbleweed. Then I had to describe what tumbleweed was and that it went where the breeze took it and one never knew where it would turn up. As it happened, she DID get to see one.

Talking about this took me on a trip down memory lane and I recalled that there was a time when my brother Matt called me Tumbleweed Terri. At that time in my life, I moved often and, at one point, I had a job that took me all over North America. This was before cell phones or internet so unless I sent a postcard or thought to check in, my family rarely knew where I might be.

Obviously, a lot has happened since then. I settled, made friends, got married to a terrific guy, had children, and lived a couple of lifetimes in the same town, in the same house, going to the same grocery store and mowing the same lawn The same isn’t all bad. I’ve also made great friends and had a pretty fun life. But I wonder – what ever happened to that tumbleweed?

I think she’s still alive in there somewhere deep inside. Maybe when I’m finished being responsible and predictable, the wind will blow once again. I don’t know where that breeze will take me but I suspect I’ll let it blow and hope I’ll land someplace where I’ll be able to check in and have visits with friends and family along the way.

I hope tumbleweeds are welcome at the beach because I suspect that’s where my breeze will blow. Someday.

United I Stand...

  

Lately, it seems that I blame so many of the world’s woes on the pandemic. Perhaps there’s more to it but I think maybe I’m making the pandemic a scapegoat for rampant human assholery. I strongly believe that there’s more good in the world than bad. This is what I preach, and I stand by it. The bad is just louder and more visible so it gets more attention.

There’s no question that the last couple of years have been hard and you just never know what another person’s challenge has been. Mine certainly has been a serious test of patience and restraint. Friends have experienced rough times. I talked to someone a couple of days ago who lost his toddler son to cancer during the pandemic. What I have observed among those who have been truly challenged is that those hard times didn’t make us hard. It made us kind.

I’ve always been one to talk to strangers and listen to their stories. Now, I take even more time. I look into eyes and truly engage. If I have encouraging words, I share them. I’ve seen my friends do the same. The man who lost his son went back to work but also started a charity to bring a smile to the faces of other children battling illness.

Meanwhile, out in the rest of the world, I see so much rude behavior. Aggressive driving, impatience in lines, complaints to low level employees who are just trying to do their jobs. There’s just a general lack of kindness and respect.

Certainly, political division did some of this. People with asshole tendencies were given permission to come out of hiding and openly display bad behavior. But then the forced separation brought on by the virus made people forget how to interact with other people.

When you haven’t been able to go out to a restaurant, maybe you forget to smile and be polite to a waiter. When you’re not wearing pants during a Zoom meeting, maybe you forget how to be proper in society. When you’ve only communicated via text and email, maybe you forget how to have a real conversation. When you haven’t been commuting to work, maybe you forget the rules of the road along with common courtesy.

Maybe we should all be required to take a class with Miss Manners. Maybe we should all be forced to hug a stranger every day. Maybe we should all be brought into a big room together and be reminded that humans are meant to be there for one another. Unity is not just a bumper sticker slogan. It’s necessary medicine. Perhaps it’s Pollyanna of me, but I think it’s possible and I’m not going to stop trying.

Stretch...

 

 

Over the last couple of years, I’ve been faced with heavy challenges.  I think we all have, thanks to the pandemic.  Everyone I know has endured tough times and we all just get through it the best we can. 

For myself, family and friends have made things easier to bear.  Through it all, people have continued to tell me that they’re impressed with my strength.  With that, I have to disagree.  I’m not especially strong,  Perhaps I’m just resilient.

Thinking about it all reminds me that in the mid-seventies, my brother Matt had a toy called Stretch Armstrong.  Stretch was a muscle-bound strongman.  When you pulled his arms and legs, he could stretch from one corner of the room to the other.  When you let go and stopped tugging, he would revert back to his original size and shape.

His power was not his muscles.  His power was his resilience.  His strongman body was just a latex exterior.  His true strength came from within.  Maybe that’s who I am!

I’m not some super-strong being that is taking on the world.  Over the years, original Stretch Armstrong was discontinued and then returned and adapted to other characters and models.  Is it so impossible to believe that, while under anesthesia during kidney  donation, I could have been injected with Armstrong material to get me through what was to come?

Okay.  I probably was not remade as Stretch.  But I do believe I’ve remade myself with resilience.  With infusions of love and support from those who have held me up, I am Resilient Armstrong.  And I am grateful.

Freestyle...

 

I’ve never been one for resolutions.  I tend to take on each day as it comes.  Good or bad, I do my best to get through it.  Plans never really work out for me so I just freestyle life.

The last few years for me have required a lot of freestyling.  I’ve met each challenge with a level of patience I didn’t even know I had.  As it turns out, I have quite an arsenal of patience ready to conquer each roadblock.  The time spent patiently waiting was not wasted.  It was used to think.  To reflect.  To remember.

I realize now that while I thought I was patiently waiting, I was actually taking stock of who I am.  I was uncovering the Me buried under the stuff of life.  Slowly, I have been dusting myself off and paying attention to what matters and what’s good for me.

While I’ve been putting myself out there and wondering why I get so close to what I think is the right and perfect job only to see it drift away, it’s been hard not to become frustrated.  Instead, I keep myself busy with things that feed my soul while I patiently wait.  I now realize that my resume doesn’t properly tell my story.

Sure, it tells about paychecks I’ve earned and who paid me but that’s not who I am.  Anyone who may want me to join their team needs to know that those times listed were just markers on my path.  It’s what I’ve done – and continue to do – outside of an office that make me who I am.  It’s everything else I do that adds value to my package.

So here it is – January 1^st.  I’m not interested in changing my diet or exercise plan.  I will continue to walk down my path and take the forks as they come.  I will continue to smile and talk to strangers.  I’ll continue to body surf any rogue wave that comes at me.  I will trust that wave to deliver me to the shore where I’m meant to land.

Surf’s up. Happy New Year.  Hang ten.