An Unexpected Reminder

“The mere fact that you have obstacles to overcome is in your favor…” ~ Robert Collier


Yesterday, while on my way to pick up my son from a sleepover, I got a flat tire shortly after leaving my house. I pulled over into a side street, called my husband to inform him of where the car was located and walked home.

It was a nice walk – the trees lining the street were raining hues of orange and gold, and the breeze was cool enough to remind one of the changes ahead. As I was admiring the small bunches of leaves neatly bunched by the base of the trees, something caught my eye…in the midst of the soft leafy bed was a five dollar bill!

I picked it up and gingerly walked the rest of the way. When I got back, I called my son’s friend’s parents to let them know I would be a bit late picking him up. They said that it was no problem; in fact, they offered to give him a ride so I would not have to rush my husband getting the tire fixed.

While I was talking to them, my oldest son made some coffee, and we both sat at the kitchen table chatting for a bit. It was a lovely time. We talked about lots of different things, and I thoroughly enjoyed those moments with him. Toward the end of our coffee chat, the phone rang and I was overjoyed to hear the voice of a friend I hadn’t talked to in years.

Shortly after, my youngest son was dropped off, and my husband arrived to fix the tire. Suddenly I realized something…if my tire hadn’t gone flat, I would have missed out on a lot of good things. Somehow, this obstacle allowed me to slow down and smell the proverbial roses.

It’s hard to properly assess an obstacle in the heat of its manifestation, as our attention is absorbed by the difficulties of the moment, but if one is able to detach from the emotional charge which is brewed during a trying experience, good things began to emerge, and when all is said and done, we realize that we have gained more than we have lost.

Obstacles slow us down and give us the chance to notice the blessings we would otherwise bypass.

Letters to Myself

“Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; for, thus friends absent speak.” ~John Donne


When I first moved to the States - and hardly knew anyone - I lived to see the mailman’s truck pull up, everyday. I waited by the window with the same eagerness of a child on Christmas Eve, and through the daily deliveries of a skinny Santa dressed in blue I felt a little less alone. Although I was excited at the prospect of starting a new life away from home, I was only nineteen, and I missed my friends and family - through letters, their love and support hugged me like a pair of old familiar arms.

As time went by, the phone calls continued daily, but the letters soon became a thing of the past. I slowly lost touch with several friends, and as phone rates became more affordable, the conversations with my family gradually shifted to a spoken exchange rather than a written one. I still have all the letters, and read them again from time to time.

Yesterday, as I was telling a friend how happy I am about the upcoming publication of my books, she suggested I hang on to some of that happiness. She went on to explain that since she was a little girl, she always wrote notes to her future self, and then saved them for a later time when she would need to hear comforting words.

If she was very happy, she told me, she would write a note in which she shared her good news, and encouraged herself to relive the exhilaration of that happy moment. If, later on, she read the note at a time when she felt a bit low on herself, she could reconnect to what had happened in the past and feel better.

Similarly, if she was very angry or sad, she would write her future self a letter about what upset her. Reading it later, after the storm had passed, showed her that all things are temporary, and are rarely as bad as we think they are while we are going through them.

I found her suggestion totally fascinating. I have written letters to others I wanted to share feelings with before, but I’ve never written anything to myself. How fun would it be now, if I could read letters written during the time when I struggled to adjust to a new way of life, or I got frustrated because of the challenges of speaking a new language? And what about those moments when I felt I could just scream out of sheer happiness, such as when I found out I was going to be a mom, or when my husband proposed?

I wish I could read those letters now. It would certainly be fun to compare my life today to something written so long ago, and it would certainly be encouraging to see that obstacles which appeared at the time as solid bricks on my path were nothing more than removable Legos.

It’s obviously too late to recapture those moments from long ago and put them down on paper right now, but it is definitely possible to begin doing so with my life’s latest happenings. In fact, I think I will start today.

The Field Trip

Imagine going on a field trip. You get to see new things, some of which you will absolutely love, and others you won’t like or find boring.
I remember some of the field trips I took during school years. No matter what the destination was, I was always excited.
The main goal of the trip was to expose students to an educational topic, but in the minds of the kids field trips were strictly a chance to have fun. At that age, we found the bright side of everything, even in a boring exhibit at the museum of history.
I see life as a paramount field trip.
Alike kids departing on a bus, ready to go explore something new, we came to earth to learn something, and arrived armed with the verve of youth, prepared to enjoy the trip regardless of what we would see.
The point of going on the trip was to learn something while having fun. But are we having fun? Do we still enjoy the camaraderie which united us when we embarked on the trip? Since reaching our destination, many of us have become too absorbed in the exhibits and have forgotten that we were also supposed to enjoy each other’s company.
We seem to draw close only when something catastrophic happens, and miss the chance we have, every given day, to make the most of our trip.
It’s good to remember we all came on the same bus and we are all friends. Let’s make our brief stay one to be remembered.
It’s not too hard to accomplish that; sometimes, all it takes is for us to smile at the friend who’s standing near.

The Friends We Haven't Met Yet

It is strange how people walk in our lives, sometimes.
When I met my friend Connie, two years ago, I was rushing through errands and had stopped by to see my husband at work. As I waited for him to deal with the customers in the store, I sat in one of the chairs in the waiting area and picked up a magazine, while Morgan, my daughter, was playing with a toy another kid had left behind.
I nonchalantly turned to look when I heard the door chime, and saw a young lady walking in with a little girl in tow. She waited patiently in line and, when her turn came, she asked for directions. She was new in town, having just moved here from Kansas, and was miserably lost.
Meanwhile, her daughter and mine had already connected, and were chasing each other around the chips rack, giggling.
When I heard that my husband was not familiar with the road the young lady was inquiring about, I intervened and started talking to her. I gave her directions, she thanked me and was ready to go, but her little girl had different plans. She and Morgan – after a whole five minutes – acted as lifetime friends, and neither of us had the heart to separate them that fast.
Since the crowd of customers had, by then, considerably thinned, we sat in the waiting area talking, hoping to give the girls a few extra moments. It was obvious that they enjoyed playing together, so we exchanged phone numbers, and agreed that we should meet again at a park.The rest is history. Morgan and Brooklyn are now inseparable, and so are Connie and I. We are so in tune, that sometimes we finish each other’s sentences. There is nothing in the world we feel we can’t share. Since I don’t stop by my husband’s business very often, it seemed like a gift from destiny that I would be there the same day that she had gotten lost.
Whenever we get out in the world, we never know what doors we’ll be walking through that day. Some are challenging, while some others are blessings that will stay with us for life.
Yesterday, my daughter was watching a Barbie movie, and I heard one of the characters say that strangers are the friends we haven’t met yet. Although it was one of those clichés you often hear in children’s movies, it really made me think.
Every person we meet has the potential to become very important in our lives; we just have to remain open to the possibilities and the blessings each encounter might bring.
In my case, I guess I was very lucky, as the stranger I met that day turned out to be my very best friend.

The Gift of Now

In “Journey to Ixtlan", Carlos Castaneda writes about the Angel of Death as being always present near one’s left shoulder. If one turns fast enough, Castaneda writes, it is possible to catch a glimpse of the Angel, and remember to live every moment fully because it could be our last.
This past week, my friend Connie had a chance to come face to face with her own mortality. After becoming very ill because of an untreated kidney infection, she was taken to the hospital, and immediately admitted. For a few days, her doctors struggled to keep the infection under control, and her condition seemed to deteriorate by the minute.
Saying that Connie was terrified is a serious understatement. She knew her body was shutting down, and everything she had taken for granted was quickly spiraling out of control. Connie thought she was going to die.
When I spoke with her, the first words out of her mouth were about her children. She was afraid of how they would cope if something happened to her, and also realized how much she missed simply having them around. She talked of the times she got angry with them over trivial things, when she could have instead told them how much she loved them.
Having three children myself, I totally understand the frustrations of parenting. Yet, Connie’s ordeal seriously made me think.
What if something was to happen to me, and I wasn’t able to connect to all the people I love or respect before leaving this earthly plane? Would they know how much I care about them? If I was to die tomorrow, would it really matter that my three-year-old daughter flooded the bathroom today, or that my husband didn’t throw his dirty socks in the hamper this morning?
We spend such a large portion of our lives worrying about things that don’t matter, that we lose focus of what is truly important. We hold grudges against people we love over unimportant matters, and never think that we may not have another chance to make amends.
After talking to Connie, I thought about my own family, my children, my parents who live far away. I realized that many times I hang up the phone without telling my husband that I love him, I choose housework over going to the park with my children, I forget to call my parents and friends because I am too busy. I never think that those simple actions could be the last chance I have to let them know how I feel. If something suddenly happened to me – or them – those perfect opportunities would be lost forever.
We are programmed to allow life's circumstances to take over, to focus on making the next dollar as if it is the last chance we have to become rich, and we forget that it is up to us to appreciate each moment and the subtle blessings that surround us at all times. The dishes will still be there the next day, and the paperwork will be waiting for us when we get back, but will our loved ones be there tomorrow? Or even later today?
Each moment of our lives that is not fully appreciated is a moment we have wasted; it's a gift we have not accepted; it's an opportunity that may be lost forever.