2014 Week 12: Taking a Break

Close your eyes for just a second.  Picture in your mind in as much detail as you can your absolute favorite vacation spot. Is it a tropical beach, with the soft sand, the crashing waves, and the smell of plumeria in the wind?  Is it a snowy mountain with the rugged evergreens peaking out from underneath the glistening blanket of white?  Next, recall what it feels like when you’ve just woken up from the perfectly timed afternoon nap-so rested, so relaxed.  Finally, think back to a time when you actually paused in the sunshine and took the time to feel its warmth on your face. 

Each of these moments remind me that there are times when it’s important to take a break, to slow down, to breathe in the moment, to rest.  I’m having such a moment this week.  The cold that I’d been fighting for days finally caught up with me.  And I confess, I’ve tried for hours to think of something to write, but alas I can’t squeeze out a single drop of inspiration.

And so with that, I will heed the call of my mind and body and rest. 

Happy week 12 everyone--just 40 left.  While you're out there changing the planet, make sure you take the time for rest, relaxation, and rejuvenation as well!

2014 Week 11: Legacy

What legacy will you leave?  What do you want people to think about when they hear your name and remember one day when you are gone?  I’ve been mulling over these questions lately, and I’ll let you in on the reason why.

Admittedly this post is a little late this week—but for good reason.  I mean who doesn’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day?!  This holiday has a special place in my heart.  And though yes, I have Irish blood running through my veins from both my mother and father’s sides of the family, the main reason this holiday is special is because of my great Aunt Mary.

I grew up living across the street from Aunt Mary from the time I can remember until the 5^th grade.  She was a critical piece of my family.  Aunt Mary was tiny (well, in height anyway), she was single her whole life, was Irish to the core, and she could cook like Martha Stewart, Aunt Jamima, and that angry guy on Hell’s Kitchen all rolled into one!  Aunt Mary was a little cantankerous at times, and frequently she would shoo us kids out of her way when she was rushing around the kitchen.  But here’s the one thing that made an indelible mark on my life: Aunt Mary’s door was always open.  It didn’t matter what day or time we would trot over and ring her doorbell (which we did constantly), we were always welcome.  In fact, every time I visited she made me feel like I had just made her entire day. 

I remember my sister and I racing over to her house one day after school soaked from getting caught in the rain.  Yes, of course we had to walk to school rain or shine because we were tough children of the 80s (well, 70s officially, but 80s by the time we hit school).  Aunt Mary welcomed us in, toweled us off, and let us take turns wearing that cool spacey contraption that was like a combo hairdryer/ugly hat.  Aunt Mary hosted the major holidays—all the extended family would gather around her.  And let me tell you, she was the most popular woman in town during Christmas.  EVERYONE had a present for Aunt Mary!  Aunt Mary made a huge impact on my life—and every single St. Patrick’s Day I remember her with much gratitude for all the richness she added to my world.

So this brings me back to my original questions—how will others remember me when I’m gone?  What is my legacy?  I can’t say I have entirely figured out the answer to this, but one thing I know—I want people to say that this world was a better place because I was in it.  I desire to leave this planet and the people in it in better shape than when I arrived.  I would like those who know me to say I laughed often, I loved deeply, and I lived boldly.  As I read this back, I can’t say that I’ve arrived or earned each of these statements just yet.  So let this be the legacy towards which I strive.

41 Weeks left--here's to making them last!

2014 Week 10: Friendships

Friendships are the best aren’t they?  I was reminded of this several times this past week.  Throughout my highs and lows, my times of strength and days of questioning—this belief has never wavered at my core: we were not put on this planet to walk alone.    We were created to travel together, to learn from each other, to pick up those who stumble around us, and reach out for a hand when we’ve stumbled ourselves.  That’s one of the things I love about coaching—no matter how brilliant we are on our own, true magic happens when we combine forces. 

So to the friends in my life...

FRIENDS ALONG THE WAY:  You are the travelers who crossed my path at some point and because you did, my life was enriched.  Whether we interacted for a day or a few years, I thank you. Thank you for showing up, for sharing who you are and for adding color to my life.

FRIENDS ALONG FOR THE HIKE:  We didn’t simply pass each other along the way in this life; instead you joined me for a while walking side by side.  You’ve shared in some of my highs and lows.  You’ve witnessed laughter and tears...and likely tears produced by laughing so hard.  Knowing you has shaped a part of who I am as a person, of that I have no doubt.  Though our friendship lasted for a season and we may not be in close proximity any more, my life was incredibly blessed by your company along the path.

FRIENDS ALONG FOR THE JOURNEY:  Now this is a special crew.  You are my “move a body” friends (read this article if that doesn’t make sense to you....and start reading Brene’ Brown already!) :-)   You’ve seen me at the height of victory and celebrated in my joy.  You have seen me during the lowest of lows, when defeat was agonizing and I’ve cried so hard I’ve blown snot bubbles.   You’ve pushed me, inspired me, encouraged me, made me laugh, and held me when I’ve cried.  You’ve seen the good, the bad, and the ugly, and despite all this you believe in me.  You graciously remind me of strength and beauty in myself that I can no longer see, and the song of my soul that I can no longer hear.

And you are not going anywhere—you’re here for the journey.  There is no earthly price that could be put on this type of relationship.  The fact that I can even say I have one friend in this category let alone a few makes me truly rich indeed!

And now I’m ending this post as I started—extremely aware, incredibly humbled, and forever grateful for the many of you who I call friend.

42 weeks left everyone—be sure to grab a friend today and let them know how they’ve made your world that much brighter!

2014 Week 9: Confessions from a Former Realist

I heard a statement this past week that caught my attention.  “Realism is just a socially acceptable form of pessimism.”  I’ll be honest, up until this past year I’ve proudly considered myself a realist.  I’ve never wanted to be a pessimist, looking over my shoulder and waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Neither did I want to be that optimistic pie-in-the-sky dreamer because….wait, what was that good reason again?

Perhaps I thought realism was safer, a form of self-preservation if you will.  Those who set their expectations too high are more likely to get hurt, right?   . . . Wait, lets see if I have thought that through.  If we lower our dreams and desires and believe that life is the perfectly balanced form of average—then it will be less painful?

Will it really?

As you can probably tell, my thoughts on this subject have shifted over this past year.  See, I want to be a dreamer.  I want to believe that life is amazing. I want to trust that we have each been given incredible talents, gifts, and opportunities to transform this planet.   I want to engage with thoughts that inspire, and encourage others to do the same.  I want to see the beauty that life has to offer—both in the simple, and complex.  I want to be overwhelmed by gratitude for the smallest of things.

I recognize that life is not easy and challenges will rise.  I’m not suggesting a Pollyanna-type attitude that ignores reality and refuses to look at pain.  Instead, at the core of my being I want to hold on to the truths that out of pain comes beauty, that challenge leads to growth, that struggle makes us strong.

And so I will.  My name is Lynn Morrow, and I declare myself an optimist. 

Two months of this beautiful year are behind us—only 10 left.  Let’s make it amazing!