In the last week I  have spoken to 11…yes count it correctly ELEVEN friends all who are in a battle in their lives.  While variations exist in each situation there is one thing that sadly connects them all.  Each friend is dealing with a loved one who does not treat them with dignity.

dig-ni-ty (noun) the state or quality of being worthy of honor or respect.

It seems almost impossible to think that someone can love you yet treat you as though you don’t deserve the same honor and respect as a stranger on the street or a co-worker that they don’t even like.  How could this be? But this post isn’t about why some don’t treat others with dignity.  I’ve got that figured out.  They do it because they are insecure and feel so small that they can only feel better about themselves by pounding others into the ground.  I’ve made a conscious decision to extricate those individuals from my life so…moving on.

My confusion lies in trying to comprehend why on earth someone would allow themselves to be treated as though receiving dignity is somehow asking too much.  Smart, confident, wonderful people who don’t seem to know their own self worth.  They couldn’t or they would know they deserve better.  Not because they did something special to earn it, but simply because basic human dignity is what every person should be entitled to.  But what if you were raised to believe that’s not true?  Well…whoever raised you is an idiot.  Sorry.  The truth hurts.  Wait…calling someone an idiot wasn’t very dignified of me was it?  I jest, but I do mean it.  If you were raised by someone who didn’t teach you to believe in yourself and to demand nothing short of being treated with dignity and respect then I’m truly, from the bottom of my heart, sorry for that.  Life has to have been an uphill battle for you.  If someone has figuratively or literally beaten the self esteem out of you then my heart just breaks.  I wouldn’t have had the courage to walk an inch in your shoes let alone a mile.  And if you’ve never had anyone make you feel that you are worthy of love and honor simply because you are you then your emotional scars will be mine because the thought of that is just unbearable to me.

Today I stand with you, though not in person, at least in spirit to say YOU DESERVE DIGNITY.  If you’ve never had it go get it. If you lost it somewhere along the way go find it.  And if you have no idea where to start looking for it just look in the mirror.  That face looking back at you, with all it’s flaws and imperfections and whatever else you THINK is wrong with you…that image staring back is a perfect depiction of beauty and love.  You deserve dignity just because you are you.  And if anyone ever tells you that’s wrong you tell them Kelli said they’re an idiot.

TODAY’S THINK TANK: What are you worth?  Honor, love, honesty, respect, kindness, fidelity, security, passion, freedom, a life without violence…what?  If you don’t know what your value is how will anyone else know?  Have you allowed someone else to redefine your worth (and in essence) have you given the power of YOU away?  If you have, do whatever it takes to get it back.

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not the absence of fear. Mark Twain

Small Baby is 15 months old and he started swimming lessons this week.  No I’m not trying to turn him into the next Phelps, but I don’t want what happened to me to happen to him.

When I was in high school someone didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know how to swim.  I guess she thought I was just another black girl making excuses for not wanting to get my hair wet (if you don’t have any black friends and don’t know what I’m talking about I’ll explain it some other time).  Anyway…we were at a summer party and she pushed me into the deep end of the pool.

I freaked.  I screamed. I panicked.

No one came to  help me.

They all thought I was joking and that my aquatic gyrations were for comedic affect.  I was so afraid..completely paralyzed by fear.  Moments later my best friend came walking out of the house holding a bag of Cheetos.  I can still picture so clearly thinking “screw the Cheetos Jen I’m drowning”, but I couldn’t get the words out.  My best friend knew me so well that I didn’t need to say a word.  Her eyes flashed wide, the Cheetos fell to the ground and she jumped in. The funny thing is…she BARELY knew how to swim herself, but in that moment she feared LESS.  Of course she was afraid, but since my fear had gotten the best of me Jen knew her fear needed to be LESS.  Not nonexistent.  Just LESS.

In my opinion there is no such thing in life as the absence of fear.  Mark Twain will be happy to know that I approve of his quote.  Fear will always exist, but as I see it we have two options.  We can either learn how to face fear or  we can pitifully be frozen by it.

The last time I was frozen was August 1986 in that pool.  I’ve been scared of many MANY things since that day, but never again frozen.

They say less is more.  Whoever they is got it right.  When it comes to fear…less is truly more.  So today don’t try to be fearless just try to FEAR a little LESS.

TODAY’S THINK TANK: Pick one thing you’re afraid of doing and do it anyway.  What is it?  Applying for a new job, asking for a raise, standing up to or for someone, sharing your faith, saying no to your child, saying no to your parents, telling someone how you really feel, admitting the truth about something, getting on the scale?  Whatever it is go ahead and let it scare you, but do it anyway.  Jump in the pool like my friend Jen did.  Your fearlessness might save someones life…and it just might be your own.

Christina Aguilera – Singer

I have had a love affair with McDonald’s french fries since October 1977. Yes, I do actually remember the first day I ate them in Fairfield, CA (where my parents still live).  When I’m home I still go to that same McDonald’s.  In fact I even had a birthday party there when I was 8.  Just to say the word “McDonald’s” always brought a smile to my face.

6 days ago I was in McDonald’s in Studio City (not far from Hollywood) with Small Baby.  Getting, of course, french fries.  It was our first trip to McDonald’s together.  As we walked through the restaurant waiting for our order an elderly Caucasian man standing by the soda fountain called me (or small baby or both) a nigger.  Just like that.  Bam.  I knew our trip to the M word would be a first for small baby, but I had no idea it would not be the type of first I had planned.

It’s not the first time I’ve been called a nigger and I know it won’t be the last.  It hurts me whenever someone says it, but it almost killed me when it was said in front of, or perhaps to, my child. 

My tried and true readers know I lack the ability to let things go.  I turned on a dime and walked straight up to that old geezer and said “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY”?  And of course that coward didn’t want to repeat himself.  I said “I BELIVE YOU JUST SAID SOMETHING AS I PASSED AND I’D LIKE YOU TO SAY IT TO MY FACE”.  He couldn’t speak.  He couldn’t even make eye contact with me.   

And while I had originally planned to take my food to go, in that moment, I just couldn’t.  I felt compelled to stay there.  I sat one seat away from him and though we didn’t say another word to each other my presence said enough.  It said I am your equal.  You are not better than me. You don’t intimidate me.  I don’t have to enter from a different door or sit in the back or serve you or ask your permission to feel like a human being.  I am beautiful.  No matter what you say.  This brown skin is beautiful.  And no sir, your ignorant words can’t bring me down. 
Though Small Baby will never remember that day I will never forget it.  So much has changed in this country, but sadly, so much remains the same.  I wish I could say words can’t hurt, but that’s not true.  They can and they do.  But that moment in the M Word gives me time to deal with the N Word.  Time to think of how I need to prepare Small Baby for a future that I can’t ignore and that he can’t hide from. I have to figure out, now, how to teach him to deal with such things.  I have to build him up so the world can’t bring him down.

TODAY’S THINK TANK:  Have you ever been in a situation where someone really got under your skin or hurt you?  How did you handle it?  Is it best to confront or ignore or is there some shade of gray in there that’s a better solution? 

P.S.

Mom, I know you’re going to read this and freak and and call me and ask the police to get video surveillance footage of that man and call cousin David at the Pentagon and ask him to use facial recognition technology to find this old nut job, hunt him down like Christian Louboutin shoes on clearance, and then kill him, but I’m fine.  Your grandson is fine.  Don’t freak out.  I love you.

I was at a party the other day and I heard a man, who I didn’t know, telling a woman, who I didn’t know about another person, I didn’t know.  Wait, maybe I was at the wrong party.  I sure didn’t seem to know anyone there.  Anyway…I was listening their conversation (a nice way of saying eavesdropping).  Hey, in my defense they were talking pretty loudly and my ears are pretty big. 

I listened for a good 15 minutes while this man went on and on about how he was helping his elderly neighbor with this and that and how annoying it all was.  The neighbor was well into her 80′s, lives alone, has no family nearby and she was apparently stupid enough to think that when her seemingly kind, young neighbor offered to help her that he meant it.  I mean can you believe the nerve of this woman?  To be offered help in her time of need and take it?  Who does she think she is?  Really?!  Taking someone at their word.  What kind of jerk does something like that?  OK, pretty sure I’ve beaten this dead horse enough.  You get where I’m going. 

I have  been annoyed at many things in my lifetime.  AT & T’s poor cell phone service, $5 a gallon gas, black people with blond hair.  To say I don’t understand how the world works would be the understatement of the century, but this one really got to me. Is it really that hard for people to do nice things for others and mean it?  People don’t say what they mean and they don’t mean what they say and chances are good that people don’t REALLY want to do something for others if there’s no reward in it for them.

Yesterday I was in line behind a man at Rite Aid who was trying to buy some ice cream.  One single scoop for his son. I have no idea why the Rite Aid ice cream clerk couldn’t ring him up at the ice cream counter.  It seemed ridiculous, but she told him that he would have to stand in the huge long line at the front of the store.  He explained that he was in a rush and wanted to just get this one scoop for his son, etc., but she wouldn’t (perhaps couldn’t) budge.  So the man told his son he couldn’t get the ice cream because they had to leave.  So I said “Sir, I’ll buy the ice cream for you.  Just go ahead and go”. I’m not Donald Trump, but 99 cents isn’t gonna break me.  Now here’s the funny part.  The son beamed!  The man looked scared and the following exchange occurred:

Man: What?

Kelli:  I’ll get the ice cream for you.  I’ve got to go stand in that long line anyway.

Man: Why would you pay for my ice cream?

Kelli: Why not?  It’s not even a dollar.

Man: But you don’t know me.

Kelli: I’m clear on that.

Man: I can’t accept your money.

Kelli: Good cause I’m not handing it to you. I’m giving to  (reading the clerks name tag) Leticia.

Man: I don’t want charity.

Kelli: Sir, the ice creams’ starting to melt. Please just take it.

Man: No, no way.

Kelli: It’s not a big deal and now you’re making this line get as long as the other line.  I’m happy to get it for you. No worries.

Man: (extremely serious and concerned) But I don’t understand why you’d just give this to me.

Kelli: Because I’m a nice person.  And because if I’m nice to you then maybe you’ll be nice to someone else and then they’ll be nice to someone else and if every person did one nice thing for someone for no reason whatsoever and expected nothing in return can you imagine what a cool world we’d live in?  That’s what I’m trying to teach to my son. I hope you’ll teach your son the same thing.  Now enjoy your ice cream and stop holding up the line.  (BEAT) Hi Leticia.  Can I get a gallon of butter pecan please.

And do you know that man refused to take the ice cream.  I don’t know why.  Did he think it was a trick?  Did I make him feel poor?  Is he afraid of Negroes?  I have no idea.  All I know is he must have had a lot of people in his life make him feel unworthy of being treated with generosity and kindness for him to have such a reaction.  How sad for him and how especially sad for his son who could have learned in that moment that there are still nice people in the world and that he too could be one of those people.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I’m not trying to paint myself as a saint.  I’m a pain in the butt.  Just ask my husband!  But when I’m put to the test my instinct is to be true to my word and to do life with honesty, integrity and a generous spirit.  I may get a lot in life wrong, but that is one thing I know I’ve gotten right.

TODAY’S THINK TANK:  Spend this week paying it forward.  In all that you do this week try to walk, talk and act with purposeful kindness for  no reason at all and expect absolutely nothing in return.  Show grace to those who don’t deserve it.  Show patience with those who have not earned it.  Do a kindness to a stranger and an even bigger kindness to someone you can’t stand.  Do this for one whole week and let me know how you feel.  Don’t ask others “what have you done for me lately”.  Instead ask “what can I do for you happily?”

My parents have often said I was easy to raise.  I did what I was told, obeyed the rules, thought sex seemed really scary the way Judy Blume described it so I didn’t bother trying that when all the other kids my age were doing it. I didn’t drink or do drugs or steal the car or have parties when my folks were out of town.  OK fine…I was a nerd.  I can say it. I don’t care.  I’m happy to say that my “nerdiness” paid off. I have a good life.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is my brother.  He was cool.  SUPER COOL.  Sadly, he also had a lot of problems with drugs growing up and those problems still haunt him to this day.  My brother is a good man on the inside.  He really is, but the choices he’s made in life have plagued our family.  If his issues only affected him that would be one thing, but it doesn’t work like that.  His issues affect everyone who loves him. I won’t get into the details of the kind of pain you feel when you love an addict.  You can imagine.  You’ve all seen Oprah or Intervention or 90210.  It’s more than anyone should have to bear.  But then why bear it?  Why attempt to endure the unendurable?

I guess…for LOVE. But at what point is it unhealthy and unhelpful to love someone else so much that you wind up hurting yourself to save them?  And aren’t we kidding ourselves when we think we can save someone else?

I believe freedom from these types of situations can only be achieved when we can truly separate the “criminal” from the “crime.”  I can love you and mean it, but if your words or actions are detrimental, destructive and/or dangerous then a separation must occur.

Now I say all this as a sister talking about a brother.  Not easy, but doable.  And now I do the hard thing. I try to put myself in my parents’ shoes.  What if this were Small Baby in 20 years?  Would I be able to do the tough love thing?  Would I be able to say “son I love you, but I do not love your actions and because your actions are hurtful to me and to this family I have to put some distance between us until you can get on a healthier path”?  Could I do it or would I feel that I was betraying my child…turning my back on him in his hour of need?  I don’t have the answer.  I pray to God I’m never faced with the question.

Is it possible to love someone, but hate their actions and to find a healthy balance between the two?

TODAY’S THINK TANK: Is there anyone in your life who you love, but their actions, at times, make them hard to love?  How do you navigate such conflicting emotions living inside you?  How do you helpfully love someone on a destructive path?  How do you keep yourself safe without abandoning them?  If you have any words of wisdom pass them along. I need them!

Today marks just over half a year since I posted a blog.

In the last 6 months I’ve severely grieved the loss of Tall Baby.  There are days when the pain is simply too much to bear.  Though we still speak several times a week, he has confirmed an undying commitment to his abusive birth mother.  I feel like the third string player, watching the championship game from the sidelines, helpless to do more than shout encouragement from afar, hoping those in the game hear me and follow my direction, for though they are in the mist of the play and think they have it all figured out I am actually the one who can see the entire field.  I see obstacles lined up they don’t know even exist.  They think my words won’t help.  They think I don’t get it.  They are in the game. I am not. And that’s the way it is.

People asked me for so long when would I blog again.  What could I say?  I’ll write when the pain is gone?  I’ll write when all my tears have dried.  I’ll write when I stop thinking, wishing, wondering how things could have been different?  I sat down to type literally hundreds of times, but there were no words.  Not a single word I could type that eased my pain, that made sense, that was fit to publish.

Now I know the beginning of this post seems sad, but I am not.  I am relieved.  I don’t think there’s a 12 step program for my situation, but I have finally learned to accept the things I can not change.  I will love Tall Baby as long as God gives me breath, but I understand now that I am powerless to change him.  That’s a decision he will have to make on his own.  And with that knowledge I have been set free.  Though I will likely always feel some small tinge of sadness I can at long last say I have no regrets.  No could haves.  No might haves.  No should haves.

So today, May 7, 2011 I celebrate both my 40th birthday and my return to the written word.  For my birthday my husband offered to buy me a car.  I asked him if he was insane.  My Honda is old and beaten up, but it is also paid for, still runs, and when people rear end me I shout from the window “just keep diving…that dent will blend in with all the others”.  (That is not an exaggeration by the way.  It  happens at least once a year).  So instead of the very lovely Acura I  was offered I asked for this instead…Saturdays until 3pm all by myself.  I want to get up before he sun and the son (Small Baby) rise, go to my favorite coffee shop with Laptop and Ipod in tow, and write.  No phone calls, no emails, no meeting up with friends, no running errands, no cooking, no cleaning, no bill paying, no plan making, no diaper changing, no laundry doing, no baby holding, no facebook trolling.  JUST WRITING.

When I think of my next 40 years and how to live them without regret I have clarity.  I will regret not writing.  I don’t care if I’m never published or famous or win a Pulitzer or become one of Oprah’s faves. I just want to write because I love it.  And isn’t that the best reason to do anything on this earth?  I did what I did for Tall Baby because I love him. I do what I do for Matty P because I love him.  I do all the odds and ends for family and friends and loved ones simply because I love them.  I will do what I love and that is how I will spend the rest of my days REGRETLESS (not a word, but I don’t care… I LOVE making up words)!

No more could haves.

No more might haves.

No more should haves.

I will try.

And I will fail.

But I will keep trying.

And I will stop crying.

Like Tim Robbins said…

“Get  busy living

Or get busy dying”

I don’t know what the next 40 years will hold, but one thing they won’t hold is a single regret.

Today’s Think Tank: What’s the one thing you don’t want to regret doing (or not doing) with your next 40 years?

Yes, you all know me well. I told the truth of my story in, what I hope, was the most loving and helpful way possible.  I shared the good, the bad and the ugly and urged her and her family to be as educated as possible about what they may be signing up for.

At first I thought the issue was whether or not to tell the truth.  Now I see a much more important lesson.  It’s not IF we tell the truth (we should try to do that as often as possible), but rather HOW we tell the truth.  Do we tell it with vehemence, negativity, or malice?  Or do we present it from a perspective of compassion, gentleness and the genuine desire to help rather than harm?

One of my best friends says that you can say just about anything to anyone. It’s all about the tone and the manner in which you say it.  So true so true.

I hope that my tone and manner were helpful to the woman and her family.  I’m going to keep in touch with her because no matter what decision she makes she will need support.  Sadly (yet thankfully) I have 2 very dear friends who walked the same path I just did, but years ahead of me.  I can say that I would likely not still be standing if it weren’t for them.  They knew exactly how I felt every step of the way and the loving manner in which they always spoke the truth to me made all the difference in the world.

TODAY’S THINK TANK: The next time you need to tell the truth (be it to your spouse, child, sibling, parent, co-worker or friend) think about WHAT you want to say then spends 5 times that energy focusing on HOW you will say it.  See if the way you send your messages changes the way your messages are being received.

Someone in passing asked me how my sons were doing. I said fine.

A casual acquaintance asked me if my boys were ready for a Halloween.  I said yes.

I’ve had several questions of this benign nature from people who know me, but who don’t know me well and who, as logic would suggest, don’t read this blog. These questions are not a big deal.  In fact I don’t deal.  I just can’t get into this discussion 20 times a day. I just want to get through the market or the bank or church or wherever without  having to explain the whole story and be looked at with “terminal cancer face”. You know the look.  The one where one’s heart breaks for you because they know your life is over, but they don’t want to say it out loud and they just feel so incredibly sorry for you because it’s clear things will never get better.  Yes, that look! I can’t take that look.  I don’t have terminal cancer.  What I’ve gone through is awful, but I’ll survive it. No, I’ll never EVER get over it, but I’ll survive it.    It’s very difficult, but I have a great support system and a wonderful community and a killer therapist.  I always been the type of person that can deal with just about anything.  But then, yesterday, this happened.

A woman, who I only know very casually, ran into me in the neighborhood. I hadn’t seen her in 4 years, but she’d read my blog a couple of times.  She told me that she too was thinking of adopting an older child and she wanted to hear about my experience.

She was so happy and excited about the prospect.  I stood, frozen, as she held her newborn and envisioned adding a troubled teen to her household with thoughts of “The Blind Side Part 2″ in her head (she may not have thought that at all…it’s just how I can best describe her joy).  I wanted to be the Tuohy Family too, but our journey didn’t turn out as well as the Oscar Winning Film.  I was at a complete and total loss.  This was the hardest question/comment directed my way yet.  Do I tell the truth and discourage this woman from possibly changing the life of a child in need?  Do I lie and say it was all great and regret it later if things go wrong and I never shared my story?  Am I being narcissistic thinking that my one opinion will be of such importance that it will sway her life in one direction or the other?

As you can tell from my verbose writing I’m rarely at a loss for words.  But this time I was stuck.  What would you do?

TODAY’S THINK TANK: Is honesty always the best policy or are there times when things are better left unsaid? If you were in my shoes what would you have said?

Let me know what you think and tomorrow I’ll tell you what I actually did.  Boy I sure hope it wasn’t the wrong thing!

I worked so hard to make sure Tall Baby knew that I wanted him.  Strangely it never crossed my mind that he didn’t want me.

Wow, almost 2 months since my last post.  That’s a long time. I’ve wanted to write.  Really, desperately longed to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard if accuracy is your thing), but haven’t been able to.  This post won’t be as long as it should be.  There’s far too much to say.  I guess that’s a bit oxymoron-ish yes?  What I mean is that there is just so much to say, and it’s all kind of depressing and sad and I think who the heck wants to click on this site and be invited to join a pity party?  No one right?! I think what I need to do is break this whole story up in tiny chunks. Much easier to digest that way.  OK, that’ s good plan.  Just the Cliff’s Notes version of the facts today.  Once I get that out I think I can get into more of the emotional side later in the week.  We’ll see how I feel.

So in a nutshell…Tall Baby no longer lives with me.  On August 26th we went to, what was supposed to be, our last day in court to finalize guardianship and then official adoption was just a few signatures away.  Everything was on track for, what I thought, would be a successful outcome.  Tall Baby’s biological mother was supposed to be there.  She didn’t show, which was no surprise to me and didn’t affect me in the least, but sadly, the impact on her son was great.  Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder was an idiot.

Due to the social worker not getting her report done on time (her mother had passed away) we needed to continue the case.  But no big deal.  We met with the judge, he said all was in order and it was just a matter of signing on the dotted line in a few weeks. Everyone was happy.  Everyone except Tall Baby.

There was a definitive shift that day in court and in the subsequent weeks after we came home from the courthouse. Yes, he has always been a kid with some serious issues.  I knew that from day one.  But he turned a corner that day.  Maybe feeling like his mother didn’t care, maybe needing her to fight for him, maybe not being ready to legally say goodbye to his biological family…I can give you a million maybes, but none of them will change a thing.  The bottom line is that his mother did not – does not want him, but he wants her more than anything in this world. And knowing that did more damage than anyone every expected.

Tall Baby became violent in the house.  It was like watching a human pot boil even though no fire was set under him.  I realize now that the fire was there. It was just inside so I didn’t see it.  But he felt it.  Felt the burning, the anger, the frustration.  Felt something so deep and so destructive and couldn’t understand how people looking at him couldn’t see  and feel his pain.

But I didn’t. As close as I was to him I never understood the gravity of that pain. Or maybe I didn’t want to understand.  Maybe I wanted to put on rose colored glasses so I didn’t have to deal with the reality of the depths of his abuse.  It’s easier when it’s a story on the news or an episode of SVU, but when it’s someone you love it’s just too hard.

And I do love him. I will always love him.  It nearly decimates me to know that he doesn’t love me.

I know there’s tons  more to say, In fact I really haven’t explained much at all.  But I’m doing the best I can so please bear with me.  At some point I’ll say something funny and get back to writing about meter maids and exposed breasts and coffins at Costco, all that’s still a very real part of who I am.  But for right now I want to be as honest as I can be about THE MOST DIFFICULT thing I’ve ever experienced.

TODAY’S THINK TANK: Do you see people for who they really are or for who you want them to be?  Why is it so hard to take people at face value instead of thinking that if we just love them enough, buy them enough, control them enough, manipulate them enough (insert your vice here)…that if we just do “whatever” enough…they will be who we want (or possibly need) them to be?

You know that person in your life is an addict, but you’re more comfortable calling him a “character”.  You know your child isn’t the brightest lamp in the store but you say “she marches to her own drummer”.  You know the person you’re with lacks the moral fortitude to be faithful but you giggle and call him a “flirt” instead of an “adulterer”.  You try to adopt a child who never looks at you with love…not ever even once, but you say “it’ll come in time” even though you know in your heart it never will.

Why do we play these games with ourselves?  Are we doing more damage by delaying the truth?  Or is it just thinking positive?  Maybe if we hope for the best, once in a while, that’s how things will turn out.

In 1955 Officer Joseph S. Dorobek won a contest to come up with a slogan for the LAPD’s internal magazine called BEAT.  The slogan was meant to be an embodiment of what one of the largest police forces in America represented.  Hundreds of submissions were received, but Officer Dorobek’s simple 4-word sentence was the winner.  TO PROTECT AND SERVE.  4 simple words that would signal to the world the highest goals and ideals for the LAPD’s relationship with it’s citizens.

In 2010 Mrs. Kelli K. Powers didn’t win any contests, but she thought she should come up with a slogan for herself.  The slogan was meant to embody her role as wife, mother, daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin, auntie and friend.  No one submitted any ideas, but Mrs. Powers copied the motto of Officer Dorobek and decided that his simple 4-word sentence was a winner.  TO PROTECT AND SERVE.  4 simple words that would signal to the world the highest goals and ideals for Kelli’s relationships with those around her.

As I’ve stated many times before I don’t have a ton of talents to speak of.  I couldn’t win Star Search (dear God I’m so 80′s….do you even remember that show), or Idol or American’s Next Dance Crew with Top Models That Are Too Fat For 15 or whatever all these reality shows are!!  I have FEW talents.  But I’ve realized this week 2 talents that I do have. They’re pretty cool talents and it’s time I put them to good use.  I  know how to PROTECT and I know how to SERVE.

My new goal is this….each day I want to make sure I do one thing that protects someone or something and one thing that serves someone.  It’s small, but it’s a start.  It’s tangible and doable.

TODAY’S THINK TANK: Look at your last to do list.  Bet it had all sorts of fun errands on there.  By chance did you have something on your list that required you to do something useful for someone else?  If not try this….the next time you make a list put, at the top of the list, 2 things that will be beneficial to someone else and do those first.  I wonder how much happier and more productive I’ll be if my first efforts each day are to PROTECT and to SERVE others.  And hey, if protecting and serving aren’t your talents pick two things that are and do those.  I chose protect and serve because those are in my wheelhouse.  I have protective instincts and I’m all about acts of service (that last bit is from a book called The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman…if you haven’t read it do so TODAY..it’ll change your life).