Sometimes in life, the cup is half-empty, sometimes it is half-full, sometimes it runneth-over, and sometimes it is bone dry. I’d like to say it is all in a person’s perspective, but I don’t really believe that. I do, however, believe that sometimes, life hands a person a set of circumstances and those circumstances define themselves and all the person can do is deal with the cup they are dealt. That is not always a negative thing, but it is not always positive either. It all depends on what is in the cup and what you do with it.

Tag: writing

Post #5: 7/30/25

Cup Status: 1/2 Full

So, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about stuff. Belongings. The things we choose to bring into our homes, collect, display, keep, save for later, etc. This topic has been on my mind because my family moved twice in 2024 and each time we needed to downsize our belongings in order to fit better into our new home. Our first home was 3600 square feet and had an additional shop building that was at least 1,000 square feet, but I don’t remember exactly. And, we filled it up. I collected holiday decorations and outdoor children’s toys and craft projects to get to one day and our children had more toys than they could possibly play with in a year if they played with a different toy each day. My husband and I both have hobbies that take up quite a bit of space (I scrapbook and read lots of books which requires the collecting and storage of lots of crafting supplies and books, of course). My husband is a music guy and loves vinyl, so he has a collection that would rival any record store (and of course he needs to have the equipment to play them on, and the backup turntable if the primary one goes out and this other turntable will be awesome if he can get it fixed one day and and and…). We also really like to get things for free, so when people give things to us, neither of us are too good at saying no, especially if it is something for our kids. So, after 12 years in the same house, we needed to get rid of mountains of things, stuff, clutter, weight before we could move forward to a new beginning. We loved the potential that our house had, but we had reached the limits of our DIY skills and budget and it was time to bid a sad farewell to well-intentioned plans. So, we began the process of sifting through the things. I was ready to say goodbye to the clutter. I had watched the shows on Netflix and read the Marie Kondo books. I could identify what sparked joy and what was practical and necessary and what was sentimental. I also knew that I disagreed with dear Ms. Kondo about how many books to keep, but I did agree that I didn’t need three copies of War and Peace…my husband, on the other hand, was not in the same place of readiness as me. I’m pretty sure that we moved with him parting with one box of items, but that’s ok. He wasn’t ready. My kids were following in their dad’s footsteps, so I helped them when they were not home. I weeded through the masses of Happy Meal toys and broken things that I had no idea what they were, but they had clearly lost their function. I matched up dolls with outfits and put Legos all in one bin. I was an organization master! I could teach a master class on this! But, when it was time to squeeze it all into moving trucks, it still took 6 trucks and countless trips in my own car in the weeks before we hired movers to get the big stuff. Dear goodness. We moved into a temporary rental while we waited for our dream home. This is where the real trial began. I began stating the mantra, “If it doesn’t fit, it can’t stay.” My husband was getting on board. He could see the wisdom in this. Our rental house was 1800 square feet. Our two boys were sharing a room. My husband and I were sharing a closet. GASP!!! We used the garage as craft and music room as well as storage and where the deep freeze and extra fridge went. It was also where my library/office went and our work out equipment (did I mention that I am a master organizer?). Also, I once fit half of a dorm room into a Ford Aspire. Yeah. I did that. We filled boxes with more items to part with and each of us, even the kids, started seeing our things with less value in the “need” category and as more of a nuisance. Something they had to find a place for and keep clean so that they could function in their smaller spaces. I cut my wardrobe by half and discovered that all I did was cut out the clothes I never wore anyway. It was really nice. Then, a few months later, and much earlier than we had planned, we found our dream home on the market. It is 2400 square feet. A little smaller than we had planned, but the perfect style in the perfect neighborhood. Everyone has their own bedrooms again. My husband and I have our own closets again. We love it! But, with another move, came another round of purging. With another round of unpacking and finding places for things, came another round of, “If it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t stay.” This time I also added, “If it doesn’t fit my decorating style or a wall in this house, it doesn’t stay.” I had to add this because I had boxes of home decor that I was saving for my forever home. Well, we are in it. This is THE home. So, there goes the wall decor I bought ten years ago and never hung up. There goes the curtains I never used because I never had a window to use them on. There goes the candle holder I never used because I didn’t have a mantle for it and now that I have a mantle, I didn’t like it anymore. Letting go of stuff has helped me to lighten my emotional load as well as the physical load in my house. Now, the only items I store are the holiday decorations that I actually use and the outdoor toys and garden items that we actually use. It feels so good. I also make it a point to only bring things into our home that I love or need. My kids definitely have not kept the ways we have learned, but I am trying to help them to remember. “If it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t stay.” Why do we allow our things to have so much power over us? When we have stuff we have to tend to it. Move it around. Dust it. Store it. Feel guilty about not using it. Get mad if someone breaks it. I know that I will never be a minimalist, but I am glad that I have a healthier view of stuff than I did a year ago.

July 30, 2025
Post #4: 7/29/25

Cup Status: 3/4 full

Yoga. Breathe, stretch, breathe, relax. Such a great way to destress and enjoy some self-care. I have been completing a different yoga workout each night for three weeks now. I usually do this before bed to help me to relax and wash away the stresses of the day. So, the last yoga session that I was completing, I was on the floor with my left leg extended and my right knee pulled to my chest. My eyes closed. Breathe in. Breathe out. Relaxation. So nice. Sigh. Then. Jingle. Jingle. Jingle. Pat. Pat. Pat. Sllllliiiiiddddeeee. Meow! A small, plastic, purple ball hit me in the face followed by a ball of fur with four paws. My 6 month old kitten ran into my face. After a brief, “What the heck?!” from me. I laughed and said, “Milo!” I lowered my right leg and lifted my left leg to my chest and hugged it. He purred and rubbed his body against my face, wrapping his tail around my neck. I laughed. Then I lowered my left leg, rolled onto my left side and onto my hands and knees. I moved into a table pose to begin cat/cow when my kitten decided he wanted help out. He jumped on my back as I lowered my back into cow and raised it into cat. He purred happily. I could feel the vibrations in my back. I couldn’t help but laugh. Then, the instructor on the video told me to move into down face dog. I warned Milo that he was about to go for a ride and tried to gently move him from my back, but he clung on, so I moved into the pose and down he went. He moved fairly gently and landed on his feet, but he made sure to meow with a bit of disdain in his little kitty voice, just to let me know that he was not happy with my choices. As I held the pose, he continued to meow but he moved to my feet and nipped at my toes to express his displeasure at me. How dare I mess up his place to sit and be. As I moved down into sphynx pose, Milo reminded me of his presence. He sauntered toward my face. He rubbed his tail around my neck and then walked back towards my feet. He stepped onto my leg and walked up onto my back. He then made himself into a cat scarf around my neck. The sphynx now had an accessory. A very furry and warm accessory. I held the pose and giggled to myself. What a silly, ridiculous cat. He was ruining my peaceful, self-care moment when I was supposed to be introspective and serious and healing my emotional scars. Goodness cat. I gently moved into a sitting position and thanked myself for setting aside this time. Milo stayed in position as my cat scarf and I thanked him too. He brought a level of laughter and hilarity to my solemn practice that I didn’t realize I needed. I have never been a cat person, anyone who knows me knows this to be true, but ever since Milo walked into our lives on June 21, 2025 I have become a cat person, or at least a Milo kitty person. He has brought laughter and snuggles and frustration into our lives in so many ways. I am so happy for most of his shenanigans even for the cat yoga. So, after I finished my session, I scooped up my kitten and snuggled him close while he purred happily. Ridiculously cute, Milo.

July 29, 2025
Post #2: 7/27/25

Cup Status: Runneth Over

There are some people who enter our lives for a short period of time, a chapter if you will. Then there are those who are there for a lifetime, an epic poem, a series of novels that you never want to end. This is the case with my group of friends. We have been friends since roughly 2000. With some forming the core earlier and some joining slightly later. But the reality is that we have been friends for 25 years. That is amazing. We have seen each other through transitioning from high school to college. Our fledgling steps into adulthood when we learned and failed and learned some more how to pay bills and cook and date and fall in love and heal from heartbreak and hangovers and bad haircuts and dye jobs. We made midnight runs to Walmart and 3:00 am runs to Krispy Kreme doughnuts 3 hours away because that was the closest one. We shared so many firsts with each other in our 20’s and then our 30’s and now our 40’s. To say that I love this group of women is an understatement. They are my people. I never have to explain myself to them. I can be myself around them. I can say whatever I need to without a preface or an apology that diminishes me. They see me and understand me and get me. They always have my back. This weekend I got to enjoy a few hours with my people. It was exactly what I needed. It filled my cup.

We gathered together at one of the friend’s houses and ate snacks and talked. It was heavy talk at first. Several of us are going through some things. We talked about one of us moving away soon. That is going to be a difficult transition even though we are so happy for her. We talked about the beauty and sadness of preparing to send your only child off to her first year of college. The what if’s of the future and the free time in the fall that is to come. We talked about our various childhoods and the concerns we have over our aging parents, one of us in particular worried about next steps in daily care. We talked about the stresses of our jobs and wishing we could come up with a better way for things to run, but we came up short. And I talked about my recent panic attack. I had never had one before that I knew of, but I had one the night before and it struck me hard. It started with heart palpitations (I have been having them a few times a week for a month now). Then my arms and legs started going numb. Then I felt light-headed. But, I checked my pulse and my oxygen level and everything was normal, so I sat down and told myself that this was temporary. I counted five things I could see, four things I could touch, etc. until my heart rate returned to normal and the crying stopped. I sat there after it ended and felt exhausted and rung out. The weird thing is that before it started, I had been sitting down, watching my current distraction, Grey’s Anatomy and working on curriculum for the school year when it began. I had not felt stressed or anxious or worried about anything. Actually, it was quite the opposite. I was coming up with a creative idea for the lesson that I was writing and it was really exciting. But then, bam. I was panicking. What was the cause? I didn’t know.

My people understood. They were there with words of comfort and suggestions to help when another one happens because it probably will. I don’t know what has brought on the anxiety recently, but my girls had some ideas and we talked through them for the next little bit. I feel like, without them, I would be lost. Those moments of connection and understanding and most importantly, no judgement, are everything to me. We ended the night at a restaurant eating chips and salsa and enjoying margaritas and laughing until we cried tears of joy. I will never look at chimpanzees and vultures or the Great Wall of China the same again, but that is why I love these girls. They are my people and they fill my cup when it is bone dry. My wish for everyone is that they too will find their people or at least their person who can do the same for them.

July 27, 2025