Later on many of these same people thought I would sing in the church choir but my deep voice was never welcomed during recitals [...]]]> When I was a little girl of about 5 years old, my Aunt Dorothy would stand me up on tables to sing the latest pop songs to her friends at parties. Since I knew every word, I was their entertainment. I remember their delight as they told me I would be a singer.

Later on many of these same people thought I would sing in the church choir but my deep voice was never welcomed during recitals as a child or the choir as an adult. One time when a group was supposed to sing a modern pop song during church, the rest barely sung and I carried the tune. Afterwards someone commented that it was unfortunate that I was the only one who really wanted to sing since everyone else’s higher voices would have been better.

Throughout the years I always backed down when it came to singing. I’d say ”I have a deep voice.” or “I can’t sing.” My innocent happiness when singing had been whittled away by others.

Out of the clear blue someone recently told me that more than a couple of women with my voice would ruin a choir. Since I wasn’t even saying I wanted to be in the choir, I didn’t know why this had to be emphasized to me. 

Despite all the negativity about my deep voice throughout the years, I sing every day. A teacher’s aide recently noted that I must talk with a bluetooth because she sees me moving my lips in the car and she didn’t think I was singing. I let her believe it was a bluetooth. Since I had my first child 13 years ago, I’ve sung every night at bedtime. There’s always a song in the car, in the shower, in my heart.

But can I sing? Recently I found my maracas in the back of the closet and decided to turn on the video camera and record myself. My head was cut off so I raised the lens and did it again. Here’s my quick rendition of Linkin Park’s “The Little Things Give You Away”:

When my youngest son came home, I made him watch it in order to tell me if I should be embarrassed and take it down from YouTube. He thought it was not embarrassing and also thought I was really sad during the sad parts. My older son also said it was great and he didn’t know I could sing so well. As a third check, my husband blurted out “And you told me you couldn’t sing when we first dated.” He thought it was good even though he didn’t understand what it was doing on YouTube.

As their three opinions are the only ones that truly matter to me, I finally think I might not sound too bad. Today I heard my oldest son telling a complete stranger in a waiting room that I was a singer. Of all the things I do, this is how he decided to describe me but he undoubtedly has heard me more than anyone in the world.

Of course we can all sing.  But whether we think it is good or not is truly in the ear of the beholder. Making this video has restored some of my childhood love of singing which had been beaten down over the years and sent into hiding.

Remember what made you happy as a child. If something brings you joy, it is joy. Don’t listen to the chorus.

Lately I’ve hit some rough patches. Things haven’t gone the way I’d hoped. Crossroads can be confusing times in your life.

One day my husband surprised me by saying I needed to watch It’s A Wonderful Life because I had made a difference in many lives even if I would never know it. Although I didn’t think it was obvious, at that moment I wasn’t certain of my accomplishments and his words gave me solace.

In the [...]]]>

Lately I’ve hit some rough patches. Things haven’t gone the way I’d hoped. Crossroads can be confusing times in your life.

One day my husband surprised me by saying I needed to watch It’s A Wonderful Life because I had made a difference in many lives even if I would never know it. Although I didn’t think it was obvious, at that moment I wasn’t certain of my accomplishments and his words gave me solace.

In the back of my head I believed him. I believed he knew what I meant to the lives around me even if I couldn’t see it myself.

Then small little glimpses started to be revealed.

Although I was in a slump one day, I forced myself to go to the press conference for an art installation to cover it for the local blog I spend so much time on each day. I went through the motions. I might have written down five words and took some pictures. When I came home I forced myself to write the article and a barrage of comments filled the blog post congratulating the artists. I realized by taking the time, I really made a difference for them.

This Sunday as I entered church, a woman quickly told me they were all taking the music director out to a brand new restaurant which was reviewed on the blog. Although I hadn’t written the article, I had reached out to a friend to write the review. She had enjoyed the experience and now a broader community would too.

Later when I was getting a cup of coffee, a friend told me how much reading the local blog means to her and how she tells everyone about it. Her happiness and dedication surprised me.

As I was leaving church, a boy and his mom followed me for a block in the freezing temperature because he recognized me and wanted to say hello to his cub scout leader.

As I stood on the street, a woman came up to me and started to tell me the renovation of her historic home was progressing so we could sit down together for an interview. The only other example of this type of architecture in our City had been demolished and she was excited to share the last of its kind with everyone.

Then someone wrote on my Facebook wall that she had gone to a concert because I wrote about it on the blog and “it was great”.

To finish up the day, a woman sat at my table at a family dinner. She was looking to buy a house and when I mentioned the blog. She looked at me and said, “Are you that Griffiths?” A complete stranger then told me she gets the daily email and knew about my real estate listing.

My husband was right. I don’t have any idea how many lives I touch in my community. None of these things are very big deals, just the little bits of glue which make us all feel connected.

When I’m alone with my laptop making decisions and receiving negative feedback, the experience can be difficult. Now I have my own little Wonderful Life episode to remind me we should never give up hope.

I’m sure I’ll need to read it again but I am grateful, so very grateful.

When I picked up Wild Goose Chase by Mark Batterson, the idea of a spiritual adventure intrigued me. I was looking forward to something new. A year later I’ve realized what influenced me the most from the book involves looking back.

In the chapter entitled “A Rooster’s Crow”, Pavlov’s dog-salivation experiment which led to the concept of a “conditioned reflex”, is used to make the point that our lives are “an elaborate repertoire of [...]]]>

When I picked up Wild Goose Chase by Mark Batterson, the idea of a spiritual adventure intrigued me. I was looking forward to something new. A year later I’ve realized what influenced me the most from the book involves looking back.

In the chapter entitled “A Rooster’s Crow”, Pavlov’s dog-salivation experiment which led to the concept of a “conditioned reflex”, is used to make the point that our lives are “an elaborate repertoire of conditioned reflexes”.

But whether they are big or small, conscious or subconscious, harmless or harmful, one thing is certain: we are far more conditioned than we realize.

He goes on to imagine how Peter must have felt every time he heard a cock crow. Jesus had told him he would deny him three times before the rooster crowed and just as he finished his third denial, a rooster did crow. For the rest of his life, Peter would have to wake to his greatest failure.

At first I didn’t think much of this chapter, but I became aware of the concept. One day as I was driving, a metro bus pulled beside me and I realized I was gripping the steering wheel tensely. Because a bus had collided with my car a few months earlier when I pulled into an exit lane from a parking lot, I was unknowingly carrying around the turmoil of the accident. Since a bus stop was located in the exit lane, the bus had the right-of-way. I was at fault. I was guilty of causing the accident. Until I read the book, I hadn’t been conscious of the reflex I was having with every bus on the road. Daily driving was destroying my confidence and peace.

Do certain situations, sounds, or sights bring back your pain?

We all have failings and feel guilty. Becoming aware of the reflex is the first step in healing which allows us to go forward and find happiness.

I know of someone who had sexual encounters in the men’s locker room at the gym. He’s struggled with changing gyms and leaving them altogether. With a family at home, the guilt about his transgressions must have been so overwhelming each time he saw gym equipment, even at another location.

We can’t live with such enormous pain in our lives without destroying ourselves.

How can we heal from the small and enormous failings in our lives? Living with secrets or avoiding reminders is a temporary fix. The triggers are still there. We need to find a way to truly forgive ourselves before the pain will leave. We need to break the “cage of guilt”. Only by fighting back the bad thoughts then finding peace and forgiveness, can we be happy.

The build up to the holidays can be stressful without any extraneous situations. With all my might I tried not to be negative during the week before Christmas, but many forces conspired against me.

The cashier has pressure on the nerve in his [...]]]> A funny thing happened to me in the grocery store. Well really, it’s been happening to me everywhere I go. People keep telling me about hidden pains and injuries. Since my wrist is in a brace to allow my tendon to heal, I am visibly injured. When people ask and find out it will take more than six months to heal, they tell me about their struggles.

The cashier has pressure on the nerve in his ankle, someone at a party has a frozen shoulder, and someone else has constant knee pain. I feel like I’ve been admitted to a secret society. Very good-natured people are suffering yet I never would have guessed how they grapple with a long-term injury. Their acceptance of their pain and ability to make the best of it has helped me. I’m thankful for each story shared. Some are quite personal. All are matter-of-fact. They’re helping me accept life’s trials. I’m not alone.

I’ve been jotting down descriptions of myself as I’ve gone through this ordeal: disbelief, joking, frustration, depression, self-pity, irritation, slight progress, inspiration. The quick fixes didn’t work. The day the doctor sat me down and laid out the possibility of a year without full use of my arm, I also had an accident with a bus. At this darkest moment, the friends I thought would be by my side weren’t. But out of the blue someone from church called to ask about praying for me and another friend became terribly lost in my neighborhood and found me dejected while sitting on a curb. I wasn’t alone.

As we age, there’s a good chance things will only get worse physically. If you’re like me, you know you’re not cut out for it. I’ve been having too tough of a time. But with everyone’s help and encouragement, I think I’ll make it through. Most likely with those I least expect.

I hate them.

I fight them back. Do the right thing. Realize I have no right to feel the way I do, then see the situation from another perspective. My mind puts a stop to my emotions, usually at [...]]]> The first time I heard Joni Mitchell’s Good Friends , I loved the line “No blame for what we can and cannot feel”.  I felt relief. The song allowed me to forgive myself for those sometimes inappropriate emotional responses to situations.

I hate them.

I fight them back. Do the right thing. Realize I have no right to feel the way I do, then see the situation from another perspective. My mind puts a stop to my emotions, usually at a pretty quick pace. We’d all like to think we’re perfect and never react with anger, jealousy, or hate, but we do. We may immediately stop ourselves or struggle for a while, but the emotions exist.

The people in our lives can help or hinder the process. Friends can support inappropriate reactions or help you work toward more balanced responses. People who surround themselves with others in a certain mindset tend to react in the same way.

This is why support groups often go off on crazy tangents.

When I was breast feeding, friends warned me away from La Leche League because they said they were extreme. I never went but should have. I did have some difficulties and could have used their help. Other people’s impressions stopped me.

A support group was extremely helpful when I had a child with extensive allergies to food, medicines and the environment. However, I disagree with the elimination of certain foods from public places such as the bins of peanuts in stores. I also don’t agree with hand wipes to every child after lunch because it is unnecessary, damaging to the environment, against best practices from the leading doctors, and a waste of money. I would attend and feel the need to speak against these advocacy efforts. I don’t enjoy conflict, so I stopped attending. My 12 years of experience is lost to all the newcomers who need to figure out how to survive each day.

Since like-minded people tend to stay together, formal groups often don’t recognize other people’s realities. They become very centered on their own concerns. This is helpful when first dealing with a new situation in your life but eventually, you are ready to progress.

Support groups need to support. When the group veers off to change the world, someone needs to take a step back and stop them. Other organizations can handle the protesting, letter writing, and campaign organizing. A support group needs to help people deal with the world on a daily basis and not change the world. Otherwise, the care and encouragement are lost in the midst of the protests.

What have your support group experiences been like?

When a friend announced my husband and I would be attending her party, another guest recognized his name. Thirty years ago her employer, a local bank, had received an unsolicited complimentary letter about her customer service. My husband, at age sixteen, had taken the time to pen that letter. All these years later, she has never forgotten his name.

My husband doesn’t remember writing the letter. To him it was nothing, a quick “thank you” to [...]]]>

When a friend announced my husband and I would be attending her party, another guest recognized his name. Thirty years ago her employer, a local bank, had received an unsolicited complimentary letter about her customer service. My husband, at age sixteen, had taken the time to pen that letter. All these years later, she has never forgotten his name.

My husband doesn’t remember writing the letter. To him it was nothing, a quick “thank you” to someone along the way. But obviously it meant a great deal to this teller.

When we met her this weekend while visiting my husband’s hometown, she was delighted to tell the story. At the time she was beginning her career. The letter made a great first impression. She joked that the bank never fired her. In all her years, no one else had taken the time to compliment her work in writing. His words have always been important to her.

We all know most people are quick to complain about service and don’t take the time to praise. We also know you can never tell how far reaching an act of kindness will be or how much of a lasting, positive impression you can make on someone’s life. What a gift to hear this story. Knowing makes all the difference.

People at the party marveled at a sixteen-year-old who would take the time to praise someone. They thought it took a very special person to be so giving and aware at a young age. I can’t agree more.

Our local community blog, RockvilleCentral.com, could easily become a place for quick and easy complaints. As Editor, I didn’t want a bad review of a restaurant to be posted. I prefer our contributors to write about the places they recommend to their friends. Now the blog policy means even more to me. I like knowing I’m encouraging people to take the time to make someone’s day.

So, act like a very special sixteen-year-old and acknowledge good service when you find it. Share the best in life.

I’m not by any means a public figure in my city but because of a local community blog, people know me. A city staff member once wrote, “We haven’t met (and I’d like to remedy [...]]]> Friends keep asking social etiquette questions about Facebook. For the most part, the interactions are unchartered. Although I advise the same good common sense as in real life, I’m now struggling with my own situation and how it will spill over.

I’m not by any means a public figure in my city but because of a local community blog, people know me. A city staff member once wrote, “We haven’t met (and I’d like to remedy that) but I am ______________; and I am in need a of a great big favor.” So we corresponded and I tried to help.

A short time later her city email showed up on my friend finder in Facebook and she accepted my offer of friendship. As I like to make personal contact with all my new friends, I wrote on her wall, etc.

But she has unfriended me. I find myself wondering why. She could have just blocked me from seeing her status updates.

Gosh this whole Facebook thing is getting complicated.

I’m sure the college kids are way past this. Truthfully, I don’t care. To me it’s a friendship lost. I liked her status updates and thought she was fun and wild like me.

But this is the communications person for my city. Since I blog about our city, I’ll have to interact with her in the future. What do I do?

1.) Directly send a message on Facebook and ask why? Did I do something wrong?
2.) Ask her why when I see her in person?
3.) Pretend nothing happened both in emails and in person?

Yes, we weren’t really friends, but I was hoping to get to know her better. Yes, I understand it is more of a professional relationship with me and you don’t want your crazy everyday observations to go public. Today she has 195 friends, not many by a younger person’s standards, but obviously more than just a close circle. Plus, she has kept my fellow community blogger as a friend as well as other city staff, so it’s just me kicked off the list.

It’s just Facebook right so I have to ignore it? I guess I will.

At the end the coach called the team together. There must be more than 80 kids from 1st grade through middle school. He asked them to form a big circle and face in one direction. At first I [...]]]> Yesterday my boys went to their first practice for the track team. My oldest ran up a steep hill three times with ease. The younger one kept smiling and running with enthusiasm. I was proud of their dedication.

At the end the coach called the team together. There must be more than 80 kids from 1st grade through middle school. He asked them to form a big circle and face in one direction. At first I didn’t notice my two boys in the middle with their backs to me. I was chatting and joking with a fellow parent. We both noticed them at the same time. As I don’t sugarcoat anything about my kids, I blurted out, “Oh my gosh, look at my kids!” We laughed. I tried to decide if I should go across the field and into the giant circle and make them stand like everyone else. They were listening to the coach. If I went out there, I would draw attention to them and create a scene.

How can you not notice when everyone else is doing something? As kids we’ve all stood in a circle for games. You feel the energy surrounding you. Everyone is looking at you. How could you possibly not notice?

When we came home I asked them about it. At first it was crowded so they stayed toward the front and everyone else must have moved. That was it.

Have you ever noticed other people oblivious to a situation?

I was tempted to give examples like someone eating while everyone else at the table waits to be served or someone talking on a cell phone in a quiet room, but this is not rudeness. It’s something else.

When my father was dying, the complications from his diabetes worsened over a couple of years. As I describe the situation, you know he is close to death. He was blind. His kidneys had failed and dialysis wasn’t working. Gigantic calcium deposits the size of baseballs were all over his body. He was missing parts of his fingers and toes to gangrene. Doctors came in to examine him because they had never seen someone so far along. Each of these conditions was a small battle. They developed over years and he survived each one. He would get through.

His sister is squeamish and came to the hospital. I changed his socks as a matter of course. She ran out of the room. Down at the end of the hall she cried and told me I had to know he was dying. I didn’t know, not really. There had been so many hospital visits and he was only 50 and I just kept taking care of him. It took someone to tell me directly before I saw it.

The bar moves slightly and you adjust. This continues to happen and you don’t realize how much things have changed. My boys made an adjustment to where they were standing and never realized the true situation. We all just keep plowing forward in life. It’s easy to say we should take stock of our situations and notice if things are different, but there’s no guarantee we will. That’s why we need other people to understand and help us join the circle.