I jump into summer like most people, happily shedding routines that, by that time of year, feel more confining than helpful.  The carefree days of summer are a welcome relief from the doldrums of routine that I’ve been following through fall and winter. I approach summer as a time to unwind, relax, reconnect with family and friends through leisurely activities; a breath of fresh air!

At some point though, I find myself lost in a jungle, having a hard time finding my way through the long grasses and trees.  I’ve taken a wrong turn and need to get back to the well-worn path I was on…

Too often, as was the case this summer, I unintentionally released some great habits that had served me well.  I need to reconnect with them if I’m to regain my equilibrium and find my way back to “center.”  So I’m reestablishing quiet time as my precious, top priority.  It’s a Homecoming of sorts… cutting through all the noise of a busy, active life. It’s settling back into the stillness long enough to hear that barely perceptible voice of authenticity.  It is so refreshing!

With fall here, I find myself actually welcoming routine. It seems to be a relief from the helter-skelter pace of summer busyness; a time to reassess where I’m going and what I want to accomplish this coming year.  Why wait till January 1^st…when I’m usually exhausted and frazzled?  The peacefulness of fall is the perfect time for me to stop, think, and establish productive, effective routines before jumping into the holiday season.

In my youth, I resisted routine.  It felt like shackles, restricting my spontaneous nature. Now, I see them as an aid that allows me to be more whole-heartedly spontaneous.  How so, you might ask?  Without routines, my spontaneous brain was always “on” like a radar scanner, to see what might be falling through the cracks. Inevitably, something always did, which would then propel me into panic mode.  The fear of this happening again was like a slow leak in a balloon that seeped a bit of joy from each activity.

Now I realize that with a framework involving planning and routine, everything will be covered, even if I have to move things around.  Rather than being constricting, routine allows me to be fully present in my spontaneity without the accompanying fear.  So after years of a struggling relationship, routine and I have become friends at long last.

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

© 2018 Zanne

Recently, I got together with a good friend and we talked about her upcoming 60^thBirthday.

“What special ‘thing’ are you going to do to commemorate this milestone?” I asked.  Ideas floated across my mind as I thought of the many fascinating possibilities I’d heard other people speak of.

“I’ve decided to execute 60 Random Acts of Kindness in the coming year.”

My mind stopped dead in its tracks like an emergency brake had been applied. It took a few seconds to bring my attention front and center and for her answer to register…

“What an awesome idea!!  I love it!!”  I bubbled with enthusiasm at her originality and selfless spirit.

“When you stop and think of it,” she said, “it’s really just a bit more than once a week.  I see this as quite doable!”

We talked about and evaluated different kindnesses that could be performed.  She had even done some research online to jumpstart her bank of ideas. I was in awe of the simplicity of it as well as the genuine joy she expressed in doing things for others.  Her enthusiasm was contagious and I found myself considering various possibilities.

What a real gift she is giving herself!  After spending a year looking for ways to bless others, I suspect the habit will be formed.  She will reap the rewards of living a life with an eye toward others, which she already does quite well!  This is just a more conscious effort on her part.  There’s a certain sense of fulfillment that comes when doing something good for someone who cannot return the favor; who is not even aware of the kindness; or of who carried it out.

Her “Random Acts of Kindness” campaign has the potential to be like a stone, thrown into a pond, its ripples reaching far and wide. As others witness such kindnesses, it will warm their hearts and they, in turn, may be moved to “pass it on.”  Already, I am inspired to start on my own similar odyssey.

Every day offers new opportunities to be kind. Only with awareness can I choose to do something about them.  Well… my awareness has been awakened!

I’ve read that what we focus on grows.  If I focus on kindness and giving joy, I can’t help but be spreading joy in my own life as well as those around me.  It seems like a very simple, life-enriching formula that I’m eager to try…

Thank you, dear friend!!

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

© 2018 Zanne

I’m not usually late for appointments, but I must admit that, at times, I do cut it a bit too close…like last week.

Though I planned to arrive promptly for my 9:30 doctor’s appointment, several minutes seemed to evaporate and I found myself rushing in order to get there on time. Naturally, I had not calculated traffic into the equation, nor a wrong turn, which is why I found myself calling ahead to let them know I would be a few minutes late…seven to be exact.

After checking in and being escorted to the examination room, the nurse started with the blood pressure reading.  “Can you think of any reason why it’s a bit higher than usual?” the nurse asked.  Hmm…let…me… think…

“Well… I was running late and trying to navigate traffic with uncooperative motorists, does that count?” I asked, trying for humor.  The nurse chuckled as she moved on to another examination room, leaving me to my thoughts while I waited for the doctor.

It was in the quiet of this room that I started contemplating the real cost of running late, or barely on time. While I have found myself in this situation more times than I care to admit, I had never fully considered the condition of my spirit, let alone my state of presence when I rush.  I had always regarded it a success when I arrived at the ‘designated time.’  But was it really?

As I waited, my conscience started to make its presence known. I realized that rushing around leaves me no time to show appreciation or little kindnesses along the way.  Sitting in traffic earlier, I had turned a blind eye to the driver who had been patiently waiting for someone to let him into the flow of traffic.  Had I not been in such a hurry, I would have been that person. Searching for a parking space, I noticed an oncoming driver seeking one as well.  I quickly claimed the closest available space rather than graciously letting him have it because I’m late!  I’m late!  As I exited my car and dashed across the parking lot, I saw the elderly driver continuing his search…

Entering the building in haste, I did little more than acknowledge the two young ladies who greeted me at the door and pointed me in the right direction. I also did not truly “see” the young woman who greeted me as I walked into the doctor’s office.  What was bouncing around inside my head was:  I’m late! I’m late!  Sure we had an exchange. It culminated in my presenting her my insurance card and driver’s license, but nothing that signaled to her that I appreciated her and what she did.  It’s not that there needed to be a conversation of epic proportions.  It just would have been so much better if I had been present enough to regard her as an individual rather than as a cog in the wheel of a well-run office.

I concluded that those who always get places with time to spare rather than just “not late,” understand the lesson I’m now learning… that arriving a few minutes early is NOT a waste of time.  It allows me to show up in a peaceful manner that will be reflected not only in my blood pressure reading, but also in my interactions with everyone I meet along the way.  It seems some things take me longer to learn than it does others…

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

© 2018 Zanne

With several dollar bills in my pocket, I head out for my Saturday morning ritual.  I’m never sure what it will yield.  The only certainty is that it will end with a great cup of coffee at Starbucks.  This is the one day each week that I routinely enjoy my quiet time at the coffee shop.

Between home and there, however, there are usually three or four yard sales that I am destined to come upon. There’s little I find more enjoyable than being up early, preferably in the sunshine, just perusing the tables of items, with no particular thing in mind.  The saying, “One person’s trash is another person’s treasure” certainly holds true here.  Just last week, my mother found an old french fry cutter like hers that had long been coveted (by me) for only 50¢!  The thrill was more in the finding of it than the actual price…though the price upped the thrill factor!

Last summer I came upon a neighborhood yard sale.  Those are especially fun.  They often remind me of trick or treating because, on a nice day, I can park my car and walk from house to house.  Part of my love of this “sport,” is striking up conversations with homeowners and fellow shoppers.

As I strolled into her yard, this particular woman was especially friendly.  I could tell she was in a joyful spirit and we had a very enjoyable exchange.  While she had many beautiful things that she was ready to part with, there were none that I needed or wanted.  Truth be told, it can be overwhelming at times and I miss out on some real finds.   More often than I care to admit, someone who comes behind me selects something I just passed by and would have purchased had I only seen it.

I was turning to say goodbye when I noticed a miniature bistro set.  I had never seen anything like it and commented on how adorable it was.  She confessed, “I wasn’t sure I really wanted to sell it.  That’s why I have such a high price on it.”

“Oh, I hadn’t even noticed the price,” I said as I approached to take a closer look.  The tag read $25, which was a fraction of what it cost her, yet still considered high in the yard sale arena.

“Is that an “American Girls” set?” I queried.

“Yes, it is!  Do you like them?”

“Well, it’s more my daughter and five year old granddaughter that are crazy about them,” I chuckled.

“Oh, well then, take it!”

I did a double take, questioning my hearing.

“Take it!” she repeated.

“Oh, thank you, but I just couldn’t!!” I stammered, knowing she had the $25 price tag on it coupled with the uncertainty she had expressed about parting with it.

“No, I’m serious!” she said. Please take it to them!”

“Well, only if I can pay you something for it.”

“I won’t accept anything for it, she continued.  Listen, it will make me very happy to know it’s going to be used and well loved!  I insist!”

Whether she sensed my hesitation or not, she removed it from the display and started to package it for me.  This woman was not to be refused.

After thanking her profusely, I walked away stunned, that she had given me her sweet bistro set.

I went back to my car and sat there contemplating what had just happened.  This woman, whom I had just met, gifted her treasured possession to complete strangers.  Her act of generosity reaffirmed my long-held belief that within each person, there exists much goodness.

Over the next several days, I carried her kindness, tucked inside my heart. This woman awakened in me, a desire to bless each person I encounter in some way.  If asked, she might say she gave me her treasured bistro set.  But the gift I received that day, which was by far the more valuable gift, was the unbridled kindness and purity of heart she so readily offered.

This wake was different than most I had attended.  The funeral parlor was filled with empty chairs because those coming to pay their respects were lined around the room and out the door spilling into the hallway waiting for their turn to offer their condolences to the family of the deceased.  On a cold, dark February evening in Maine, when most don’t venture out once they’re in from work, these people were compelled to make an exception.

I could imagine their impatience at the length of time it took for the line to inch forward.  Once it was their turn, however, they seemed oblivious of all the others waiting behind them.  They had a need to let the family know just what this dear man meant to them.

My father had a way of making people feel special.  It is said that you can see into someone’s soul through their eyes. That was certainly true of my Dad.  The warm, ready smile on his face and the gleam in his eyes made you feel lovingly embraced by him even before he uttered a single word.

I knew that was the way he made me feel, but I had always assumed it was because I was his daughter.  What these people made me realize was that he didn’t reserve his love just for his family; he spread it wherever he went with whomever he met.  A woman my age approached me and told me how lucky I was to have had him as my father.  She said that she hadn’t been as fortunate, so she had “adopted” my father as her own. She went on to say that through his unconditional love, she gained inner strength as well as acceptance of herself.

At the funeral Mass, Fr. Dan described the olden day ‘lamplighter.’  He said that before electricity, streets were lit with gas or oil lamps.  Normally, as evening approached and darkness settled in, a designated person, who came to be known as the ‘lamplighter,’ would light these lamps by means of a wick on a long pole.  Because the lamplighter worked in the dark he was never actually seen.  He walked into the darkness in order to light the way for those coming behind him.  Even though you couldn’t see him, you always knew where he had passed because of the light he left in his wake.

Fr. Dan went on to liken my father to a modern-day lamplighter. Dad never called attention to himself.  He was a principled man, who did the right thing for the right reason even when no one was there to see; that was his wick on the pole.  His smile and gleaming eyes were the fire with which he lit his little corner of the world; his way to make God’s love come alive.  I am one of his blessed children who had the privilege of calling him “Dad.”  For that, I am eternally grateful.

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

© 2018 Zanne

Given the choice, most of us would probably choose to have people think well of us; that’s pretty normal.  But for me, the problem started when the need for the good opinion of others became a top priority.  It had always been such a part of my life that I was unaware of its grip on me.  Unfortunately, it picked up steam with every passing year.  I only became aware of it because of a work related experience.

As part of a sales organization, I was recognized over and over as the top seller of the month .  Early on, I enjoyed the challenge and success I was experiencing.  One day, however, I became aware that I was compelled to keep that top position.  I was no longer performing to reach my goal.  Somewhere along the way, without being aware of it, maintaining the position had become the goal and it was running me, rather than the other way around.

Holding that title was no longer optional for me.  I was at its mercy; I had to have it!  How did I know I was at its mercy?  Not only was selling no longer fun, I had the burdensome feeling that I was only as good as my latest sales totals; if I wasn’t the best, I was insignificant.

These “thought” revelations usually start out as deep sadness in the pit of my stomach.  That’s when I realize something isn’t right.  It’s also when I grab my journal and try to unravel my feelings on paper in an effort to get to their root cause.  I want to know what they’re pointing to.  With patience and persistence, I am usually rewarded, if not with the answer, at least with the direction in which to go where it will ultimately be revealed it to me. Awareness is the first stepping-stone.

So when I became conscious of this thinking, I wanted to cut the chains that bound me. I discovered that I had traded in my self-worth for a flimsy title that did not define me but rather, served as my taskmaster, snuffing all the joy out of my work.

Applying this new realization to other areas of my life, I discovered that I was so much more than all the titles and labels I had accumulated thus far. That’s when I took ownership of my life. I started exploring my own thoughts and feelings, giving them more weight than my perception of others’ opinions of me.  I say “perception” because we can never know for sure what others think of us, unless, of course, they tell us.  I realized that as long as I took direction from my heart, what other people thought of me mattered only to them.  I didn’t need to waste precious time and energy making it my issue.

After spending a good part of my life looking over my shoulder, caring too much if I was “good enough,” making the transition to being “self-directed” took time and diligence.  The more I took the time to consult the still, small voice within, the more my core strength grew.   With self-knowledge, came the ability to access my authentic light and let it be my guide.  Once I truly “came home,” there was no going back.  Now I strive to listen to the inner whispers of my soul and to live authentically with no need to check over my shoulder.

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

© 2018 Zanne

Several weeks ago, I received an invitation to a Tea Party.  About a dozen women were invited to watch the Royal Wedding (replay.)  While optional, we were encouraged to dress as if we were attending the actual wedding, complete with hat/fascinator.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I would have even considered accepting such an invitation.  I never felt I had the time to partake in what I considered frivolities. Before I had the chance to RSVP, however, I watched Oprah interview Shonda Rhimes about her book; “Year of Yes.”  Shonda told of how she passed up many opportunities to do things for various reasons.  She came to the realization that “no” was her standard answer, even for things that she easily could have done.  When she became aware of this, she decided that, for a whole year, she would try saying “yes” as often as possible.  This opened her up to new possibilities and experiences.

Initially, when I received the tea party invitation, my mind conjured up many reasons why attending a tea party on a Saturday afternoon wasn’t a good idea.  Most of these reasons circled around work to be done… housework, laundry, and all the catch-up chores that are usually waiting for me.  Then I heard Shonda and got to thinking about her commitment.  Mind you, I’m not the one who made that commitment, but it did give me pause to think about my own automatic “no” responses.

In my mind’s eye, I tried a “yes” on for size.  Besides rescheduling my work to other time slots, what else is keeping me from attending this tea party? I interrogated myself.  Taking the time to figure out what to wear and coming up with an appropriate hat!  I grumbled. That was more time or energy than I was interested in investing.  Since this was actually a large part of my not wanting to accept the invitation, I asked myself, Would my answer become a “yes” if I could pull something together in, say… a half hour?  Would that be acceptable?  Yes! I decided I was willing to devote that much time, but probably not a whole lot more.

I looked around my craft supplies to see what I could put together quickly.  The colors I found there actually determined which dress I would wear. With florist wire, tulle and silk flowers that I already had on hand, I fashioned the hat in twenty minutes, selected the dress and other accessories in another ten.  There!  Now I could attend the tea party without any more fuss.

The day arrived and I was dressed and ready in short order, pleased at how expediently I had pulled this off!  I drove the half hour to my friend’s house. As I pulled into the driveway, I immediately became concerned.  It was curiously absent of any cars.  Huh!  That’s funny! …oh, they probably all walked over because most of them live in the neighborhood, I thought to myself.

As I reached for the large salad platter I had made, my friend drove in and said, “Well, hello!  What are you doing here?!  My heart sank, “This is n-not the right weekend for the Royal Wedding tea party is it?!   With a smirk on her face, she replied, Prince Harry and Meghan are getting married next weekend.  Duh!  Of course!

I was so focused on getting everything ready smoothly, that even though I had written the correct date in my planner, my brain somehow separated the tea party from the actual wedding!  I had totally lost sight of the date and showed up a week ahead of time!  Ugh! The next time I say “yes” to an invitation, I will pay more attention to the actual date!  All was not lost, though, as I was very prepared for the actual day this weekend.

I also came away with a valuable lesson or two.  So much of my life is routine and I don’t often pause to consider a different way of doing things.  I’ve become a creature of habit.  While I’m not quite ready to say “yes” to everything that comes my way in the coming year, I am committing to giving thoughtful consideration to all requests…especially, those that initially elicit a negative response from me.  I’ve discovered that the key is in asking myself what would need to change in order for an initial “no” to be turned into a “yes.”  Without a doubt, that little change, will expand my world to include new possibilities and experiences.

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

© 2018 Zanne