Today

Here's today's #Trust30 prompt. (Actually, it's the June 1 prompt... I'm playing a little catch-up.)

Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. The force of character is cumulative. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

If ‘the voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tacks,’ then it is more genuine to be present today than to recount yesterdays. How would you describe today using only one sentence? Tell today’s sentence to one other person. Repeat each day.

(Author: Liz Danzico)

So here's my sentence:

I got a lot of ducks in a row today-- now let's see if they'll stay that way!

15 Minutes to Live

Here's today's #Trust30 prompt. (Actually, it's the May 31 prompt... I'm playing a little catch-up.)

We are afraid of truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death, and afraid of each other. Our age yields no great and perfect persons. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

You just discovered you have fifteen minutes to live.

1. Set a timer for fifteen minutes.
2. Write the story that has to be written.

(Author: Gwen Bell)

Here I go:

I can't think of anything more important to say than that I love you. I hope I've already said that, with my words and actions throughout my life, and that when I say it to you now, you'll know it's true. It's my deepest desire to love actionably every day-- to show you how much you mean to me with everything I do.

I'm thinking maybe I should leave some parting words of advice... Because I'm so wise in my 30 years of experience...

Yeah, so, maybe not advice. Or maybe just a little. Here's the best of what I have:

1. Love each other. I'm not talking about free love sexual lib here. I'm talking about the kind of love that all these great religious figures demonstrate-- the kind of love that means even though you might find someone completely annoying, or completely disgusting, or completely unworthy of your love, you love them anyway. You find some way to see a glimmer of the divine in them. And you treat them lovingly.

2. Love yourself. How can you love anyone else if you don't love yourself? You are so hard on yourself-- harder than you would ever be on your friends. You would never look your friend up and down and tell her she's the most disgusting lard you've ever seen in your life, but I bet you do that to yourself all the time. Take care of yourself. Don't stay around people who take and never give. Be good to your body. (This is advice I wish I'd followed.)

3. Do those things you always wish you'd done. Like, nowish. Don't wait for someone to volunteer to go with you. Don't put it off until "someday." Do it. Do it alone if you have to. Make it happen. Your days are numbered.

4. Read to your kids. I know, this seems kind of random on my list of advice, but it's such a big thing to me. Your kids need to know that it's ok to use their imaginations and to go to awesome new places with just the power of a book and their brains. Your kids need to know that you want to spend time imagining with them. Your kids need to know that you just want to be close to them and spend time with them. Read to them. I promise you won't be sorry.

5. Celebrate whatever you can. We spend so much time wallowing, ruminating, and otherwise being miserable naval-gazers that we fail to celebrate. I don't mean throw a party with balloons every day, although that would be fun, come to think of it. I mean revel in the moments as they come. Just take a tiny little second when you're in bed with your whole family, and their sweet smells and skin and laughs are all around you, to appreciate how beautiful it is to be with them. Listen to the birds sing. Take a deep breath of cool autumn air. Dig your toes in the mud. Celebrate.

6. Don't keep secrets. I'm talking about those things you never tell anyone because you're afraid they won't love you, or you don't want to burden them. The people who love you want to know when you need help. They want to know your desires and dreams. They want to know how to be closer to you. Let them.

7. Write a novel. It doesn't have to be good. In fact, it will probably be terrible. Write it anyway.

I'm almost out of time, and I think that's enough unsolicited advice. I want to close again with love, I think. It's been such an important theme in my whole life. After all, "it's the only thing that there's just too little of." What? You knew I'd have to close with a line from an old song, right? It's what I do. Love.

Not All Me

Every time I rediscover Alanis Morissette, I love her more.

"Not All Me"

I wear their faces all on top of my face
I am the perfect target screen
For your blindly fueled rage
I bare the brunt of your long buried pain
I don't mind helping you out
But I want you to remember my name

It's not all me
It's not all my fault
I may remind you, but I won't take it all on

Past riddled rage
I see the buttons I engage
With my dignity in place?
I'm all too happy to assuage

It's not all me
It's not all my fault
I may remind you, but I won't take it all on

Lest I find my voice
Find the strength to stand up to you
Lest I stay to my limit
And only take on what is mine to

We are a team
I'm here to help mend and reseam
All I trigger unknowingly
A job I hold in high esteem

It's not all me
It's not all my fault
I may remind you, but I won't take it all on

It's not all me
It's not all my fault
I may remind you, but I won't take it all on
I'll only take some of it

Stepping Back

I've always thought "taking a step back" was a good idea when processing a problem. You get a sense of the bigger issue, you see things from a new point of view, and you can distance yourself from the emotions involved with whatever it is you're thinking about.

The thing is, sometimes when you take a step back, you can't see the problem anymore.

Take my house, for example. From across the street, it looks great. Green grass, pretty color on the outside, fun little gables and a white picket fence. (No kidding.) But when you step a little closer you can see some of the stuff that really needs to have some attention. There's a corner of the lawn that's all crabgrass. The planter around the mailbox needs mulch. Some of the trim by the door is rotting. On the whole, the house looks pretty good, but those little problems add up, and you can't just leave them until you can tell from across the street that your house is a mess.

I've been working on getting my "house" in order. That's part of why I'm doing my 30 Before 30 list-- it's just the little push I need to try new things and get out of my various ruts. And I'm doing my best to look at the pieces of my life that maybe other people can't see from across the street. Those things are important, and they need maintenance just as much as a caved in roof or a completely dead lawn.

And maybe you don't (and can't) understand what they are to me, and why I have to do what I have to do, because you're a step too far back. I'm working on being ok with that.

Defenses

Defenses have their place. Sometimes you need them. Scratch that. Sometimes I need them. (I really have no idea if you do or not.) But, sometimes, you have to put your defenses back down, even if you think there's a chance you might be hurt.

My subconscious does not agree with me. Last night's dream? I was driving a white convertible, and I parked it, left the roof down, and left my purse in the driver's seat. When I came back, lo and behold, everything of value had been taken out of the purse. My brain is kind of a smartass and likes to tell me things in dreams as obviously as it possibly can. "If you leave your defenses down, someone's going to steal your stuff."

But, Brain, you need to shut up for a little while. Because I have to work on this, and to give my all to this project, I'm gonna have to leave the convertible top down and my purse in the seat, and just trust that my stuff won't get stolen, because there is respect on the other side, and people who respect you don't steal your stuff.