A wise man once counseled me to give it my best, every day, and to get comfortable with the belief that my best was enough. I was young and feeling overwhelmed in a new job where I would be responsible for leading a small team, some of whom had worked at the company for longer than I’d been alive. I felt extremely under qualified and, frankly, scared.

His small handful of words impacted me more than he could ever have anticipated. I like to think they became part of my DNA, and I try to draw on that guidance daily.

I bring this up today because, suddenly, we all find ourselves thrust into a scary new world. I’ve debated about even writing this post. With all of the fear, anxiety, and questions we all have over this worldwide pandemic, who am I to weigh in? But then I remembered my friend’s timeless advice.

The reality is we are all in uncharted territory here, and it’s damn scary. It doesn’t matter what differences might have separated us in the past. All we can do is be here for each other now, to offer kindness and compassion, and to take the precautionary measures being asked of us, even when those things feel hard to do.

Two weeks ago, I spent my Saturday morning in a coffee shop, doing something I love: working my way toward “The End” of my next book. When my brain was exhausted, I decided to treat myself to a shopping trip to Scheels, a fabulous retail store here in Fargo. I usually shop there for gifts for others and not for myself, but since I had an upcoming trip planned, I felt justified shopping for a new outfit, maybe even new comfortable shoes since we’d be doing lots of walking.  

Our two youngest kids were off at college, and the guys were processing deer sausage at our house, so I was enjoying some time to myself, out and about town, on a day that held the promise of spring.

Oh, the things we took for granted.

I wandered around the women’s clothing section that Saturday, picking things off the racks to try, but found myself at the checkout with two cute t-shirts and nothing else. I’d had higher hopes. Maybe I just wasn’t in the shopping mood. But it was still fun to browse.

Life as we know it has changed drastically since that relaxing Saturday afternoon, two weeks ago. I’m not going to attempt to reiterate all of those changes here. Some changes are universal to us all, and some are unique to each of us. We all have a different story, and every story matters.

Why do I mention a simple shopping trip when there is so much heartache in the world right now? Only because of the messages on the two t-shirts I picked up that day, having little clue what was in store for all of us:
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My hope is that we can find ways to bolster each other up during these scary, challenging times. It will take courage, compassion, and kindness. We already miss how things were in our past, and we aren’t sure what tomorrow holds, but we can try to give it our best today. “Our best” will look different for each of us.

Our house is quiet this morning. I’m alone for the first time in at least ten days, and it will only last for a few hours. 

Spring Break for our college freshman started a week ago Friday. A month ago, she’d been irritated by the fact some of her friends had travel plans, and she was destined to a dull week at home with her parents, tempered with planned time out with friends. If only her assumptions had played out that way!

I have the house to myself now because she signed up for a three-hour time slot during which she and one other person (a shout out to her dad!) could access her dorm room to empty it. She’ll complete the rest of her first year of college online. The university is staging the move out times to minimize contact with others. Good call. There will be no good-bye hugs with friends or roommates, and my heart hurts for all of them. But it is necessary.

As I sit in this quiet house, I try not to think about the cross-country trip I canceled to visit our daughter in graduate school out west. Today should have been a day trip to the ocean, maybe a winery or two, and most importantly, time together. All of that will have to wait. FaceTime talks will suffice for now, and though my heart aches to have her so far away during this scary time, I know we all must practice patience. 

Life is suddenly shifting in ways none of us have ever experienced, and the lessons our children are learning extend beyond the safety of structured classrooms and delivery by trained, dedicated teachers. We all have to find ways to help guide our kids as best we can during these turbulent times. We will learn together. 

Our world is changing quickly, and not only for the young. For everyone, work suddenly looks different. Blessed are the brave who work in health care. Those in the medical field will help see us through, but they need help. Others will do their best to keep necessary supply chains flowing and the streets safe. Some of us can work from home. Some jobs will evaporate, at least for now. Find the positive where you can. So many businesses are taking extraordinary measures and doing their best for both customers and employees. Not all companies will be able to weather this storm.

Have faith that we will come through this together. If we forget that life is a series of cycles, Mother Nature reminds us. We still have plenty of snow in our yards where I live, but the hardy tulips on the south side of our house have already made their annual spring appearance. I smile when I remember I transplanted some of those bulbs from my grandparent’s home. 
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Let’s find encouragement in the sense of comradery that is starting to shine again. My hope is we can all continue to foster these efforts to support each other, to let go of old expectations and previous definitions of “success” that now feel rather meaningless. 

Can I do anything to help support you? Please, reach out to me to share your thoughts, your feelings, your stories. None of us are experts at any of this, but we can be here for each other.

Today we can give it our best. Stay home if your work doesn’t require you to leave your house. Use the hours as best you can. Take care of your health and the health of those closest to you. And that means both physical and mental health. 

Prepare meals you haven’t had time to cook recently, making use of what you have on hand. Get some exercise. Did you know it’s possible to still get over 10,000 steps in a day, pacing around inside your house if necessary? We don’t have a treadmill, and we’ve had some frigid, windy days here in North Dakota, but I refuse to break my streak of daily walking, and it helps me feel better. Keep moving in whatever way you can!

Find the right balance of staying up-to-date on what you need to know to help stay safe and keep others safe, but DO NOT  inundate yourself with too much negativity. Stay connected with those that give you light and hope. Call friends and family. Tune out those that are reacting in fear or anger. Those people are scared, too. Be the light. Don’t contribute to the darkness. 

There are blessings hidden within these scary times. I challenge you to make it your mission today to find those blessings. Remember when you wished you had more time? 

Some of us now find ourselves with unstructured days. It can feel disconcerting to flip from having every hour filled to having time on our hands. Allow yourself the grace to acknowledge that feeling of discomfort, and then perhaps try something new. Or something you used to enjoy. Draw a picture. Bake some cookies using an old family-favorite recipe. Read a book. Watch a movie that makes you laugh out loud. Find a way to enjoy this pause.

This afternoon I’ll take a walk outside with our son. Having them living within walking distance is one of our blessings.  

Offer a kind word of support to those working incredibly hard, under scary conditions, to help us all. Know that we are all in this together. Enjoy today. Offer thanks and support. The world needs your bright light right now. We can get through this together and build a better world in the process.

Today is a gift. You are all a gift. 

​Always in your corner, Kim

​Are you a “New Year’s Resolution” kind of person? Did you start this new year with a list of goals to strive for, or do you prefer to take things as they come?

Personally, I know I accomplish more with a framework of goals as a guide, but like most people, I can lose focus and enthusiasm if my list is too long or it feels too overwhelming. Or if fear holds me back.

​And what if you think goal setting is too “woo woo” or a waste of time?

I think whichever camp you fall into, there is one small thing that every single one of us can do to help set ourselves up for success in the year ahead. You’ve maybe heard this idea before. It’s really very simple.

In fact, it can be as simple as three little letters. Or maybe a few more. Focus by picking just one specific word and let it be the driving force behind how you live your daily life.

I tried this for the first time a few years ago. I feared the year ahead would bring the most difficult challenges I’d ever faced, but I didn’t want that ugly truth to dictate how I felt every single day. I needed to try something, anything, that would help me get through the dark days ahead.

My word that year was “JOY.” It was the screensaver on my phone (and we all know how often we glance at our phones every day…). When hard things threatened to sweep all hints of happiness away, I’d remind myself to search for something, however small, that would help me feel joy.

Honestly, it helped. Was it the perfect antidote to the loss and sadness? Of course not. But it did help. Every single day there was something in my life that could give me joy. I just had to look a little harder some days for that “thing.”

As I’d suspected, it was a year of highs and lows, and not one I’d want to relive, but it wasn’t nearly as devoid of joy as I’d feared it might be at the beginning.

More recently, we had a last-minute opportunity to attend a Celine Dion concert. A friend had tickets he wasn’t able to use, so he offered them to my husband. I jumped at the chance to go but we laughed as we waited for the music to start, my husband pointing out how few men were in the audience. Was this the reason his friend had passed the tickets on to us?

I hadn’t even noticed the disparity. There was something else I couldn’t ignore. A bright neon sign sporting one single word kept drawing my eye to the still quiet stage: Courage.
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I’ve never considered myself to be an especially courageous person. I tend to worry about lots of things (if you know me, you might be snickering right now because this is probably a tad bit of an understatement). I know worry and fear hold me back.

That bright sign spoke to me. As I stared at the word courage, I came to the realization that I want to finally learn to live without the fear of failure holding me back. 
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This year, as we all enter this new decade together, I need a different word to guide me. I will dig deep and find the courage I know we all possess. I vow to step through, over, under, or around my fear and pursue those things I’ve been dreaming of incorporating into my life.

How about you? Is this the year, this beginning of a new decade, when you’ll fight your fear and do that thing you’ve always wanted to do, too? I’d love to have you on this journey with me.

If not now, when? Life is too short to wait.

And as so often happens, the universe provided me with yet another reminder that we all face the same circle of life. Our time is not unlimited. As I was putting the final touches on today’s post, I googled Celine to be sure I spelled her name correctly. I was saddened to discover that the singer, who brought tears to my eyes with her amazing talent during her concert, is mourning the recent loss of her own mother. You see, the year I had to specifically chose to focus on joy was the year I lost my beautiful mother to a terrible illness.

We all battle through similar losses in life, and we can all lift each other up in some way with our own innate talents. So let’s get on with it.    

Cheering alongside you and excited to see how high we can help each other climb. Let’s make this a year, and a decade, to remember.   Kim
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Can you believe it’s nearly 2020? Out with the old decade, in with the new!

One of the things I love about December, beyond the festivities of the holidays, is to plan out my goals for the coming year. I like to buy a brand-new journal, find a quiet place to sit, and with a cup of coffee in hand, I’ll get the big goals I’ve been chewing on in my brain down on paper. I find the process inspiring and encouraging. A whole, fresh new year is ahead. The possibilities feel endless.

But before I do that, this year I decided to pause and spend a little time thinking about the decade now coming to an end. There is value in hindsight. It can be a stark reminder of things. For me, at this season in my life, “someday” arrived in a couple of key areas over the past ten years. I see where comfort and complacency lead to stagnation, and I have proof that finally stepping out into the unknown and trying things I’ve always wanted to do, regardless of what anyone else might think, can breathe new life into my days.
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I don’t think we should rely on our brains alone to take this 10-year journey back in time. Memories are fickle things. Photographs and notes can provide a clearer picture. I decided to meander my way through old photographs and half-filled journals to see what has changed and what’s stayed the same.

My first roadblock: the digital pictures on my laptop only go back to 2014 (when I get a new computer, I try to transfer them over). Sigh… How hard is it going to be to find those pictures taken between 2010 and 2014? They exist, but probably on a medium that will get harder and harder to access. A new goal for 2020 – organize those pictures and turn the best ones into an actual printed photograph that changing technology can’t steal away from me. Part of my trip down memory lane through pictures will have to wait.

How about written notes then? Based on the journals I find scattered around my house, I’ve been doing the whole journaling thing for at least fifteen years. I journal in fits and stops. There are always entries at the beginning of each year. I’m a firm believer that writing down a goal boosts the likelihood that we’ll achieve it (if we couple the goal with a plan). Then I’ll get busy working on the goals themselves and forgetting to journal about my progress. Mid-summer, usually around my birthday, I’ll sometimes check in with the notes I made at the beginning of the year.

But if you want a bit of a kick in the pants, dig out goals you wrote down in December of 2009, ten years ago.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m incredibly grateful for another decade here on this earth and for the many blessings of those years. But seeing that some of the same things on that ten-year-old list are items I plan to write down to focus on for 2020 is sobering because I haven’t made much progress!

In many ways, the past ten years have been a transition from one season of life to another.

Ten years ago, our three kids were 16, 12, and 8. I had no idea what to expect as we braced ourselves for the teenage years, but I knew one of my biggest responsibilities would be to help them learn, grow, and survive until young adulthood. I continued to dread the thought of an empty nest (I’d hated the thought since the day our oldest was born). Fast forward to today: one is married, one is living halfway across the country attending grad school, and one headed off to college this past fall. Now I’m learning the art of still being there for them in a different way.

Is the empty nest as bad as I feared? Honestly? No. There are lonesome moments when I miss the noise and even the messes, and I’d like nothing more than to be able to open their bedroom doors and see them sleeping peacefully in their beds. I love my time with them. They’ll all be home starting this week for the holidays, and I can hardly wait. But our days aren’t bleak and empty, as I’d feared. We are filling them with new things. And life is still wonderful.

So the whole kid thing is working out. We are blessed to have three young adults that seem to like us still. Win!

The kick in the pants stems from other areas in my life.

Guess what one of my top goals is every year? You guessed it: get healthier. I suspect this would be the case for nearly everyone. When people are out of shape, most know they should do better. When people are doing the right things in regards to their health, it isn’t by accident. It takes conscious, ongoing effort. So regardless of which camp you fall in, you can’t help but always be thinking about your health.

So far, I know I’ve been lucky. Lucky that I’m as healthy as I am, given my lack of success in attaining my annual goals of eating better and getting more exercise. Again, the whole boom and bust thing hits me here. I’ll go in streaks. I’ll focus on cutting out all the things I know are sabotaging my daily eating habits, get my butt out walking or to a dance class at the gym, and feel GOOD about it. But I never manage to do it long enough to make it an ingrained habit. I start out with the best of intentions, but…
Ugh.

I’m tired of the ‘but,’ the excuses. I absolutely have to do better in this area over the next decade. A girl can’t rely on luck and genes alone.

There is always more I’d like to do from a career standpoint. I’ve learned lessons, worked hard to earn a living, and have big aspirations for the coming years.

Kids grow up, our jobs change, and if we aren’t careful, we put on extra pounds. Life goes on.

Until it doesn’t.
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That, my friends, has been the hardest lesson of these past ten years. We can either wallow in the sadness of it, or we can use the harsh reality that life almost always passes quicker than we want it to as fuel. Fuel to stop waiting to do all those things we’ve always wanted to do. Fuel to finally make the leap.

Lots of things have changed over the past decade. Some things haven’t changed at all, even though change might have been better. We can’t change the past. But we can learn from it.

Soon I’ll sit down with another new journal. I’ll dream about where I’d like to take my life over the next ten years. Then I’ll narrow it down to the next five. To get there, I’ll figure out how I want to make the most out of the next year. Then I’ll figure out what I’ll need to do, every day, to design the next decade to squeeze the most out of the life I’m blessed with if I’m lucky enough to wake up in the morning.

Because all that really matters is how we live our life today. But the choices we make today will be the foundation for our future.

Imagine what you can accomplish over the next decade if you live life on purpose. If that thought alone doesn’t excite you, and maybe scare you a little because it is ALL up to you, I challenge you to keep working on it.

My kids laugh at me when I go into the “self-help” mode. I’m sure there is lots of eye-rolling going on if they happen to read this. Maybe when they have the benefit of five decades of life behind them, they’ll better understand that life can either happen to you or for you. You get to pick how you respond to the curves and challenges life throws your way.

Decades are huge chunks of time. I’m excited to see what the next one will bring, and I have a healthy appreciation for the fact that none of us are gifted with an endless supply of decades. I plan to make the most of “the 20’s”. How about you? Are you excited, too? Where should we take things?

​Always here cheering you on, Kim
 

I read somewhere once that to survive, we humans need to change, just like the seasons. This is a powerful and accurate analogy, but when change happens too fast, sometimes all at once, it can weigh us down and make us feel overwhelmed.

Here, in North Dakota, we enjoy four distinct seasons, although the beauty of both fall and spring can feel too short. October often brings beautiful weather, but the past few days have been nothing short of ridiculous around here. I think Mother Nature might have gotten her months mixed up.

Normally, the days can still be warm, evenings cool, and the landscape can be vivid with color. On Wednesday, I took a walk in the park near my office and enjoyed our typical autumn splendor. Leaves on some of the trees were changing, offering warm golds and bright reds and oranges, providing a striking contrast to the green leaves remaining on other trees. The grass was a brilliant green yet, given how wet it’s been, the sky was a vivid blue, and some hearty flowers were still blooming. 
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Few leaves had fallen from the trees yet. A man was mowing the grass, and squirrels were scampering everywhere. I mean everywhere. One skipped right across the walking path in front of me, and when I looked around for more, I counted at least ten squirrels within thirty feet of where I walked, all digging and scurrying around, as if preparing. They didn’t need to hear the weather forecast to know change was in the air.

Tuesday was a balmy 70 degrees. It felt like summer. Wednesday, when I walked, was still a very pleasant, “fallish” day with a high of 66 degrees. But those squirrels were smart to prepare. By Thursday, the high was only 37 degrees, and predicted rain had arrived. We’ve had too much moisture lately. The ground is saturated. The river behind our house is well out of its banks (thank goodness for permanent dike protection), and the ditches in front are full of water. As the temperature continued its downward slide, rain turned first to ice, and then to snow. Overnight, winter arrived.

Three different seasons over three days: summer, fall, and winter.

I was home alone this weekend, enjoying lots of quality writing time. Most of it has been spent preparing my new holiday novel for publication, and the irony of an early snowstorm raging outside isn’t lost on me.

But there was a problem. Guess what happens when heavy, wet snow falls, and the leaves and bushes still have all their leaves? You guessed it. Those leaves catch the ice and snow, and the weight of it all creates tremendous stress. I hated the thought of broken limbs and damaged trees.

I decided to give Mother Nature a hand. Even she can be unprepared for change sometimes. Out I went, into the early evening dusk with my handy broom. When I think of fall, I think of cozy sweaters and cute boots. My reality was more like a dorky stocking hat, an old raincoat, and my trusty, baby blue water boots. There was nothing cute about my ensemble, and I know I looked slightly ridiculous, using my broom to knock as much of the weight off the trees and bushes as I could. All was quiet, except for the constant whoosh of the wind and the faintest of sounds made by the icy snow. I’m only 5’2” so higher limbs were out of luck, but I gave it my best shot.

It helped, but more snow fell overnight. When I looked out in the morning, I was worried I hadn’t been able to do enough to prevent damage. I was determined to do what I could, so out I went again with my trusty broom, not knowing how soon the temperature would rise above freezing again.

The picture on the left was taken Friday evening, the one on the right Saturday morning (same tree):
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I couldn’t help but think, as I tried to remove as much of the heavy snow as I could, how this storm so closely mirrored life. When we have to endure too much change, too quickly, it can all feel overwhelming. We can feel weighed down by a sense of hopelessness. When this happens, we need to ask for help. There are people out there that can help with our burdens. Maybe it’s a family member who can help us out with childcare or taking care of an aging parent. Many people experience this overlapping of seasons. Or you may be experiencing lots of change in other parts of your life.

As I knocked the heavy snow from leaves and limbs, it was as if the trees sighed in relief, their branches lifting toward the sky when released from their burdens. While there was plenty I couldn’t reach with my broom, often the limbs closest to the ground bore the most weight. I had plenty of plops of snow hit me square in my face, and I hoped no one was watching, but I was able to make a difference.

The crack of splintering wood did vibrate through the air as I was beating off the snow. A tree down the street wasn’t able to withstand the weight.

The lilac bushes were easier to deal with, and quickly sprung back up.
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Change is inevitable, and we should prepare for the unknown as best we can, but sometimes even the best planning won’t be enough. Usually, trees lose their leaves before the first heavy snowfall, and the precipitation falls harmlessly to the ground. But when things don’t happen in the expected order or too much happens at once, we shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help.

And we have to trust that things will work out. The storm provided me with one more example of this.

A large tree did fall over in our backyard, unable to withstand the force of the wind and ice. But here’s the thing. We suspected the tree was rotten inside, and it needed to come out. The plan was to cut it down once the ground was frozen, carefully lowering it so it wouldn’t damage surrounding trees or structures. But without any human intervention at all, the storm laid that dead tree over perfectly, sending it backward, toward the river instead of the house, and it fell straight back, sparing the surrounding trees from any damage. I never even heard it fall (so I still don’t know the answer to the age-old question: if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it even make a sound?)

All that’s left is cutting up the wood and hauling it away (I won’t be doing that on my own!) 
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I do love the month of October. It is a month where we often have a foot in two different seasons, a transition month. It mirrors life, where things are constantly changing. We navigate change best when we prepare for it as much as we can, don’t fight the process, and either ask for or provide help to others as needed.

And since we are only a couple of weeks from Halloween, I couldn’t help but think of my favorite t-shirt I like to wear on the 31st of every October, while I was using my broom to beat the heavy snow off the trees and bushes outside. I guess my broom has many uses!
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October comes with a ghost of change in the air. Watch for it, and stay warm.   Kim
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