It's Complicated

It's messy.

People get sick, people hurt each other.

We fail ourselves, we fail classes and jobs.

We assume motives and create stories

that might not be real.

We become addicted to things...

alcohol, people, technology, 

drama.

We blame, we envy, we pretend.

We all do it, and we all have it.

The complicated stuff of life.

Yet we insist on assuming that other people's lives

are so much easier than ours.

We look at them with longing for how joyful and simple 

their existence must be, when we really should remember

that everybody is struggling with something.

How much happier would we be

if we all could find a way

to uncomplicate

the complicated.

To assume no motive.

Instead forgive the inner struggle.

To give up envy

and water our own gardens so we can

have gratitude for

what is beautiful about our own life.

To love ourselves enough

that we don't have to try to

find it in a bottle, a bag or a bum

 because we

are always going to 

come up empty.

To be brave enough to be real.

Even though real

isn't always pretty.

And to remember

that we are all just trying to

find a dream.

We all have been put here

with lessons to learn.

Our job of life is to learn them.

Not blame others for them.

Not cry and whine because it isn't easy.

Learn them and move on.

Learn them and live.

Learn them and 

thank your lucky stars.

As unfair as it is,

I think those who are dying

are some of the most blessed.

Faced with death, 

life becomes amazingly simple.

Love is all there is.

The rest is just....

complicated.

Same Story, Different House

I...am tired.

Like, really, really tired.

What happened to the lazy, hazy days of summer?

It may be hazy, but there ain't no lazy happening here.

I blogged about the absolute tornado that May was,

but I was anticipating things would slow  up a bit in June.

Not so much.

This week it has been one thing, after another thing, after another.

Meaning, I am running to and fro,

my kids are hither and yon and my husband is just confused.

We pass each other in the hallways

and give a little nod of recognition.

Like..."Hey, you look familiar. We're in the same family, right?"

Not that I have any room to complain,

because it seems like everyone I talk to  is in the same boat.

We keep paddling away.

Hoping to reach the shore for a little respite,

but the more we paddle, the further the land is from view.

We just row harder and harder and harder.

Pack more things into the boat and pray it doesn't sink before we hit land.

It is June 16th, and I don't think I have cooked 

a meal where we all sat down together and ate since 

before the end of May.

That's sad.

I know there are some people who thrive on this kind of overdrive.

Who seem to have an unending source of energy, who have every minute

of their day planned.

Every minute, every hour, every week.

Somehow I missed getting that gene.

Which is kind of a rip off, because my mother is one of those busy's.

The ones who are thriving.

Basking in the chaos.

Taunting me with their status updates.

Bastards.

No...

I missed out big time.

I am the girl lying on the scorched pavement behind them.

Gasping for air and tattooed by the tire marks

they left as they drove over me,

Cooking Light casserole in one hand and scrapbook in another.

Were I not maimed by the hit and run, I would have time to notice 

that I forgot to feed my family, yet again.

That I left the vacuum sitting in the middle of the living room floor 4 days ago, and there are 3 newspapers sitting on my front porch.

That we can't close the hamper because it is so full,

and that I can't recall the last time it was actually not that way.

This is nuts.

This frenzied life we lead is a little nuts.

Burnout for me is certain at this continued pace.

This poor little introvert, who needs her downtime to function properly

(don't judge)

Is going to come off her hinges soon and it's not going

to be pretty.

I'm just warning you.

So...if you don't hear from me for a few days,

 send in help.

Preferably a housekeeper, a chef,

a secretary and a chauffer,

if I can be a teensy bit choosy.

Oh yes...a sommalier would be nice too.

Because it is going to take a village, people.

My husband would be so appreciative.

He's really getting tired of wearing my underwear out of necessity, 

and not fun :)

(I'm totally kidding! Oh boy...can't wait for the comments on this one!)


It's time the pendulum started swinging the other way.
They say everything is cyclical, and I am 
advocating for the cycle of slower, simpler times to come on back around.
I don't even need a whole lazy summer. A lazy hour would be blissful!


Who's with me?
Shall we stage a revolt?
Organize a movement to bust the busy-ness?
Hell no...
that's just one more thing to do.

An Iowa Rant (Or Rave...You Decide)

I spend a lot of time thinking about why we get such a bad wrap for living in Iowa.

No respect from the rest of the country, I  tell ya!

Don't ask me why. There are plenty of more relevant things that could occupy my brain,

but it has a mind of its own sometimes :), and this is where it goes.

Were it still 1977, I could see how us midwesterners could be 

viewed as backwards, behind the times and just plain, not cool.

Or, not as cool as those right and left coasters.

But this is 2012.

We do have the internet, and even TV (gasp!)

in little ole' Iowa.

An airport that allows us to travel to other places to discover...oh my goodness...that the

more different we are, the more we are the same.

So let me set the record straight...

Yes, there are farms, and pigs, and cows.

Okay, a lot of them.

No, we don't all live on one...a farm I mean. Not a pig.

We have small cities and large towns.

Suburbs even.

No, we don't drive tractors to school or work.

We don't all wear overalls, we don't all rope steer.

We don't tip cows for entertainment,

and every road is not gravel, 

despite how movies like to portray it.

What do we have?

Bear with me...I am a girl who loves fashion and style, so this is where this is going.

Sephora, large department stores (okay, no Nordstrom yet), Whole Foods,

nearly every chain clothing store you can think of and nearly every chain restaurant too.

Strip malls and soccer fields.

Starbucks and super stores.

Large universities and small private colleges, respected around the world.

Does that make Iowa special? Nope!

It makes it just like every place else.

What makes it special is the people

 (laid back, friendly, unpretentious)

Farmers, yes. But also entrepreneurs, yogis,

industry leaders, small business owners, writers, singers, artists and more.

Wide open spaces.

Big yards, grass, trees, green space, fertile fields and clean lakes.

Incredible schools with high functioning students who are attractive to colleges all over the 

country because of their midwest work ethic.

Wonderful local restaurants from small town diners

 (my personal fave, I'll be honest!)

to 5-Star fine dining.

Eclectic boutiques and galleries, quaint farmers markets and festivals.

Not too different from where you live, I presume.

Unless, of course, you dwell in the middle of a city.

Even then.

Today, one town is every town.

Parts of the country have their own feel, but people are people

no matter where you put them.

So please stop asking me if I have electricity.

Don't ask if this is the state that has the potatoes (that's I-da-ho, not I-o-wa)

Don't call it the fly-over state.

Don't call me a hick or think because I live in a small town that I am small minded.

Stop in.

You might be surprised.

Best do it in the summer, though. Only the strong can take the winters.

My Iowa peeps...I hope this helps.

But I imagine you get the same thing if you are from Nebraska, Minnesota, Missouri,

North or South Dakota, Wisconsin, Kansas, Oklahoma and any other midwest state.

So consider this one for you too.

You're welcome :)