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Category: Monday Meanderings

Experience Glory

I invite you to take the time to enter into an experience – a personal Olympic story. Watch and imagine that it’s your sister in lane three. People lean overhearing your discussion and join you in cheering when they realize your sister is stepping up to the blocks. Imagine the feeling of being family in the stands. Feel the anticipation and hope build as you put yourself in the colossal crowd buzzing with excitement all gathered…

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That Was Easy

What a promise. Perhaps like me when you hear, “That was easy.” You think of Staples. Staples claims that at least finding and ordering their offices supplies amid complex living is easy. Here is another group’s take on easy. The United States Navy seals are known for saying, This declaration is that what’s behind is easy. Implied is don’t look for easy in today. I’ve been thinking about another source’s take on what is easy.…

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I Wander. Do you?

Here is my uncomfortable truth. I prefer wandering over following. There is nothing wrong with wandering except when I believe my indiscriminate movement conveys meaning and my restless activity purpose. I know this is not true. Even with “important” goals, a tightly packed calendar can still be filled with the most meaningless activities. What makes my wandering so distressing is that I realize this as an unconscious delay to the uncomfortable pause that thinking and…

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Facebook is Faster than the DMV

Recently, I finished a bike ride on my nearby trail with Gary on a Friday. I have to overcome the grousing that often shows up before the ride. It’s so cold. I’m so tired. The wind is too strong. I am confessing that I complain before I ride. The bike ride took care of that interior critic. I was happily climbing in the van when I realized my driver’s license was gone! I can only…

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Look around. Look around.

The pandemic reignited walking around the neighborhood block. My neighborhood is a landscape that has been a part of my life since I was five years old. In the ’70s, I biked, raced, and wandered inside most of the homes in my neighborhood. I at least made it inside the front door for trick or treating. Every porch light was on for that night. In the ’80’s I walked around the block when I returned…

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Does Anyone Iron Anymore?

In honor of my mother’s 91st birthday, a reflection on laundry. For most of my mother, Maxine’s childhood is a mystery. We could never get my mom to talk much about growing up in Quincy, Illinois. She was a depression-era baby born in 1930 and didn’t enjoy dwelling on any tale of difficulty or pain. Most of us conclude her silence meant a difficult time. However, Mom was quite ready to tell us about her…

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