A Devine Time Out

How did we get here?  This question continues to play over and over in my mind and with the replay, I can’t help but question the timing of it all.  Why is this all happening at once and is it possible for us to become better because of it? With so many messages being broadcasted and with so many voices fighting to be heard, I struggle to find my place and my purpose.  Internally, I am challenged to gain my own understanding of where I stand with it all, no matter how convoluted it all feels.  So, with my lack of clarity, my need to bridge the gaps that exist between all that our world is experiencing right now is where I will do my best to begin.   

Over the last four years, I have spent a lot of my time dedicating my heart to shifting my perspective, doing my best to wake up each morning with a sense of gratitude for my experiences.  As the pandemic continues to have an impact on the economy, on families, loved ones and our future; changing the way that we all live our everyday lives, my heart struggles to live purposefully and with the mindset that I have worked so hard to acquire.  Telling myself to live in the moment and to experience life with an open heart feels contradictory to the facial covering that I feel is so imperative to wear.  It’s hard, but I do so in hopes of doing my part to keep my neighbors healthy and safe, regardless of the misconceptions and the varying opinions that are out there.  In many ways, I am communicating love but I am also communicating that I am in fact, living in fear.  And while I know that it is my choice and it isn’t something that I am being forced to do, the reality of it makes my mission of living for the moment that much more difficult.  

But here is the thing; this isn’t about me…  

For so many, wearing a mask has been a way of life for countless generations, especially for people of color.  Hiding their inner turmoil, staying quiet for fear of retaliation when it comes to sharing opinions and ideas, being the only black person in the room, getting passed over for promotions… this has been their reality for so long and in a way, wearing a mask has been their ONLY CHOICE.  Living in fear and sacrificing who they are as a means of survival, due to the prevalence of racism has been a way of life and I personally, have been so naïve. Racism is a pandemic. 

Growing up, I can recall having conversations with little depth that vaguely addressed both sides.  Racism and racial inequality were topics briefly covered in history class and around Martin Luther King, Jr Day.  However, in my life, they were never conversations that took place around the dinner table (at least that I can recall) and in a large way, I wish they had been.  The topic was not given the attention that it deserved, and I want something different for my kids.  As a parent, and somewhat of a helicopter mom, my first instinct is to protect them from all that is happening.  But with so much pain and disparity happening in our world, I feel like I can’t miss the boat and feel as though it is my job as their parent to help them form their own perspectives through conversation, questions and listening. 

In hopes of educating myself so that I can be a resource for my children, I have been doing my best to devote time to listening to those that have been impacted by racism.  Through podcasts and social media campaigns, I have been exposed to ideals that have opened my eyes to the fear and inequality that continues to exist amongst the black community. It’s heartbreaking, unbelievable and as the struggles become more transparent, I am fueled by the campaigns that work to bring our communities together.  For instance, let’s talk about the concept of raising our children to be color-blind.  It has a nice ring to it, but is this really what we want our children to relate to?  Color-blind means seeing little-to-no difference and lacking the recognition of what makes us each unique and representative of any given culture.  I can see the sentiment behind wanting to raise our children to appreciate others for who they are as a person versus the color of their skin but when you discount race, you discount a substantial piece of one’s culture.  Culture is beautiful and culture is something to be celebrated, not discounted.  It has to be a positive part of the equation. 

Today, while I feel as though I have never considered myself to be one that sees color before content, I am realizing how much I really don’t know, and it truly scares me.  Again, here I am living in fear but in no way does my fear compare to the fear that currently exists among members of the black community.  As murders are taking place and protests (some peaceful), and riots are breaking out in response to the hurt that people that look like me have imposed on the black community, I am saddened and consumed by guilt that I haven’t devoted the time to understanding what it means to be black in America.  But, with my sadness, I am also grateful for the awakening that is fear.  I am grateful to have the resources at my disposal to educate myself and assist me as I begin to gain my own perspective. 

As I was listening to one of my podcasts, I was amazed by a comment by Luvvie Ajayi Jones in which she quoted Deb Brown. She referred to this time in our history as a “divine time-out.”  This struck a chord with me and while I am grateful for the pause and for the perspectives, I am hopeful that conversations such as these can continue to happen well into the future. 

Of course, to those that are reading this, whom are a member of the black community, I am putting myself out there, fully planning to at one point say something wrong.  But here is the thing, my heart is looking to take on the student role. I am here to learn, and I am here to listen and if my writings miss the mark, educate me and correct me.  I am here for the feedback and I am here for you.  And, to those that look like me, join me in asking questions and doing the research!  Google is a thing! 

As we continue to face the challenges that come with a pandemic and the realities and hardships that are a result of racism, I have to seek to understand and do my best to bridge the gap.  I can only come to one conclusion…

Through a pandemic and through racism, we must do what we can to take care of thy neighbor. 

So, as I head out into the community and place my mask over my face, I am reminded first and foremost of all that have been required to wear a mask every day and continue to do so out of fear.  Whether you wear a mask for fear of getting a loved one sick or whether you wear a mask for fear of being judged for your skin color, I am here for you and I am hopeful that one day, you can escape the fear that is your reality.  This isn’t about me.  It’s about you and I stand committed to showing up and doing the work…for you!  

Resources to check out: 

@sharethemicnow social media campaign

Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Man by Emmanuel Acho

Love Thy Neighbor

There is so much to be said here, with so many emotions that weigh heavy on the heart. It's hard to process and digest the events that are flooding our news feeds on the daily; each a stark representation of how our society is drenched in anger and fear. Finding the feel-good stories to cushion the blow of the hate and violence that exists is getting even harder to find. I'm saddened and I'm scared, and as a mother, I'm so discouraged. 

Two days ago, I was sitting on the floor with my oldest son listening to him talk about his fears of being judged. He had tears in his eyes, and he could barely look at me. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind, and I was thankful that he felt comfortable enough to share. 

The relevancy of this conversation hit me hard, especially now when visuals of judgement and acts of violence have been most recently elevated. In fewer words, I had to take the opportunity to help him see the bigger picture. I had to tell him that judgement from others is always going to be a component, whether it's someone judging you or you are judging others. We all do it to some degree and it's always going to be a thing. But it's a necessary part of growing up and it's a huge part of life that will only get worse as you get older. As you begin living your life and making decisions for yourself, there is always going to be someone that has an opinion and that tells you that your way is wrong. 

Knowing that this didn't help calm his fears, I also explained that one of the sole reasons that judgement exists is because we as humans have a lack of understanding about one-another; whether it be about race, ethnicity, lifestyle choices, religion, physical and mental abilities...the list goes on. And instead of seeking to understand, many (not all) chose to act based on opinions that have little supporting evidence. We aren't taking the time to educate ourselves and truly get to know those around us and unfortunately, this starts at an early age.   

As people, we must seek to understand, and we must ask the questions that give us more information before we make conclusions. And when someone judges us, we must remember that we can't let others' lack of understanding gauge our response. We can't let their lack of understanding impact the way that we feel about ourselves (a lesson that I am still trying to learn myself) and above all, we must be kind. 

Such a huge message for a nine-year-old brain to process, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

I feel so overwhelmed because as parents, we are watching our society snowball. I know that hate, violence, fear and judgement have always been around and in the most recent days, it has become increasingly elevated.  I also know that as a society, we can and must do better. 

We must love thy neighbor. 

Outside of the Box

We all have a little bit of a wild child in us… don’t we?

Well, I never thought that I did until now. Some might refer to it as a mid-life crisis, but some might see it as a path towards self-discovery.

I was raised by parents that showed me daily, what it looked like to work hard and to be responsible. My dad would often wake up at 3 a.m. to do snow removal in the winter and he constantly worked until sundown when the weather would allow him to dig a little bit more. He came home every night with dirty jeans and dirty fingernails but never neglected to make it in time for dinner. He was good to my mom and he took excellent care of my brother and I, and he did what he knew how to do, even if it meant enduring the challenges of owning a business. While he took care of the down and dirty work, my mom took care of the rest. She answered every phone call, entered in every pay roll and maintained a welcoming office that exceeded any construction business that I had ever seen. She was more than just a secretary or a bookkeeper; she was a keeper of the brand and a prideful owner of what she knew she could contribute. Did she love construction? Not really.  But she loved my dad and she loved the role that she played in making sure that the livelihood of her family remained intact. Together, my mom and dad functioned as a team and worked so hard to maintain credibility and honor. The example that was set before me was solid. Of course, it had its moments, because well, being married to and working for your boss (on both ends) must be a challenge. But to me, it only proved that they were in it for each other, both professionally and personally. And they weren’t just “in it,” they were “all in.” 

Thanks to them, I knew nothing different. For years, I loved what I did and for years I felt as though I was all in, both personally and professionally. I felt value in the things that I was doing, and I felt like I was growing through the challenges and working to better myself as each bump in the road presented itself. I was making myself proud and above all, I was living within the example that my family had set for me;  putting my all into the everyday and giving my heart to the mission that I so dearly loved. Work was my life. It kept me up at night and oddly enough, the shower was the place that I was constantly sprouting new ideas and perspectives. I was passionate and I was present when it came to my career and it fulfilled me. Sure, there were things that drained me and things that I couldn’t wait to get done with (I mean, who really likes sitting through three-hour mandatory staff meetings? Not me, and surely not many of you) but it was part of the gig and I knew I would survive and walk away with a bit of joy that came with my role. 

For so long, life felt on track and manageable. It all fit into this wonderful prepacked box that included a successful job, a loving husband, a beautiful home, children, family, friends, animals… all the things. It served me well and it fulfilled the need that I had to make my parents and myself proud and it allowed me to serve a valuable role in providing for my family. Of course, after telling me that my company was lucky to have me, my husband would often tell me that I worked too much and that I let the things that hold very little weight consume my life. I could see it, but I thought it was necessary. Looking back, I won’t tell you that he was wrong, but if you want success, there has to be some heartache, right? Today, I realize that he was right. And sadly, I hate to say this, but it took our son getting cancer and my mother losing her life for me to realize this. When it came to my career, I was too present, and I was too vulnerable to the things that could have waited until the next morning. They didn’t need to take over my sleeping hours or dinner time conversation and they didn’t need to consume the time that I had on the weekends or evenings to just enjoy the fresh air and the sweet and loving company that I had. There was more to life and I was missing it. I was living to work and not working to live, and on top of that my passion for my job had dwindled. With this realization came so much regret for the time that I had let go, but with it also came so much growth. 

In the thick of Austin’s diagnosis, my perspective shifted and the things that mattered before began to take a back seat. I was changed and my heart was no longer in the place that it once was and losing my mom took me even further off the path. I began to see the things that mattered a little bit more clearly and leaving a career that gave me a solid foundation was the next step. 

Life is too short.  You must live it, feel it and breathe it because it really could be gone in a second.

Through this journey, I have come to realize that life shouldn’t be about fitting inside of a prepacked box.  It should be about stepping outside of the box and doing the things that make you scared but also feel alive. It should be about using your passion to jump in headfirst and at times worrying about the details later. It should be about getting rid of that box!

Admittedly, today, my path is a bit bumpy, but I feel like I am patiently finding my way.  Of course, there are a few straggling trails that entice me to wander and explore.  The old me would have been weary of the straggling trails but today, I am thankful to have the desire to pursue them. I can feel a little inner wild child coming to the surface and with so many unknowns, I have never felt freer.   

But, rest assured, this whole wild child thing isn’t something that will take me to the dark side. Responsibility, honor, dedication and pride will still be the components of which I operate on (thanks to the example my parents set for me). The way in which I share them just may look a little bit different and may be a little bit more “outside of the box.”

I hope you stick with me as I begin to build a space that I crave so much; a space where I can express myself freely, do hard things and do them well, and walk away feeling as though my voice and my journey can speak to others as well.

Love you all and stay happy, healthy and safe!   And maybe, step outside of your box a little.

P. S. This sweet girl is my most favorite niece and wild child in this world. Her name is Maeve and her desire to wander the straggling trails and be her own person is what inspired me to share this perspective. She’s a tiny human with so many layers (and no boxes) and I like to think that one day, I will be just like her.

Thank You, Covid….

How do we know that we are on the right path and how do we know that what we are doing now will prepare us for a future that is promising?  With so much uncertainty around every corner, this question is at the core of everything.  As pandemic restrictions loosen, rules become a little more vague and this looming source of fear that has been sitting on our doorsteps for the past few months begins to take a backseat to the everyday, I wonder when we will feel the reward.  When will we be ok?

So many questions and of course, so many perspectives….

Many of you know that in March of this year, I left a position of almost 15 years with a non-profit organization that I love and still love so dearly.  I left a place that throughout my career showed me trust and confidence in my abilities to share its story.  My departure was out of the blue and it was random, but my heart told me that it was necessary.  It was necessary for me to grow and to learn more about myself as a person, as a creative and as someone who wanted more out of life. To be honest, when it came time for me to resign, I knew I was a different person and that what I had to offer no longer fit.  My heart was out of place and I found myself wanting something different for myself and for my family.  It was time for a change, a new perspective and to create opportunities that gave me life.  With an abundance of fear and so many unknowns, I knew it felt right and I knew it to my chore.

Today, almost two months to the day, I am unemployed and unsure as to where my path will lead me.  While I left my job of 15 years with a plan, Covid has sent me on a detour that I never could have predicted. I know that as I write this, many can relate and truly, my heart is with you.  While this stage of life has rocked me to the core, I have been able to find so many unexpected pieces of myself that were buried down deep, far before cancer changed my world. 

Recently, I did a thing. I escaped.  Yes, it was for an hour and yes it was to the obvious empty Friday night streets of Laramie, but for me, it was big.  I wanted to see the joy and the pain that exists on the surface of my community that I currently feel so disconnected from.  I guess you could say that I wanted to feel connected again, at least to some degree and I just wanted to do something and find some worth in it all.  So, I grabbed my coat and my camera and hopped in the car that I have barely driven in the last two months and…. I just drove.  I cruised the streets for a few hours, listened to music and pulled over when I felt compelled to remember a certain feeling that a society of social distancing fostered.  Storefronts were closed, businesses were using the time to remodel, curbside deliveries were the main source of business and free was a thing! I documented the pain, the change, the beauty and the reality of not knowing where the path will lead. When I was done, I cried.  I cried because I felt so connected and so in tune with what we as a community are going through… finally.  I saw it firsthand and in no time at all, it hit me.  I too am unsure as to whether what I am doing today will create a future that is promising, not only for myself, but for my family.  We are each feeling this to a degree, especially as we begin to search for normal again.  Whether it be because a loved one is sick or being asked to work on the front lines.  Whether it is because the security of your job is in question or if you are waiting to hear if you will be asked to return when things begin to simmer.  We are each questioning our every move, the value behind it and the potential impact that it may have on us as people and those that we love.  In this tiny adventure, I realized that I’m not alone and that there are so many “things” hanging in the balance. 

This is where I gained the perspective that I needed….

Firstly, I see my children.  I really see them.  I see them face educational challenges that have only been presented to me in a thirty-minute parent-teacher conference.  I see them firsthand and I can pinpoint the root of it all and most importantly, I am able to comfort and guide them to my best ability. It may not be up to par with the godsends that have regularly blessed their lives Monday through Friday from 8-4, but it’s me and I can have an impact.   Thank you, Covid.

Secondly, with the extra down time, I have been given the opportunity to focus my attention on how I can grow and pursue a life that I am proud of.  I have said so many times that I am a budding optimist recovering from a glass half empty perspective and as I work through my own fears, I can feel the weight of the glass getting heavier.  I am fearful but I am not defeated.  Thank you, Covid.

And finally, with so much vulnerability, I have been able to find comfort in my imperfections.  The box that I once felt like I had to fit in now has multiple sides.  I can breathe and I can reach for things that I didn’t have the courage to reach for before. Granted, I could not do this without the man that I have beside me, who reassures me everyday that I am beautiful and that what I want for myself is valuable and that where I am today is different from where I was yesterday.  What can I say, maybe being cooped up for months on end with the man that I love has done me some good… although he might have a different perspective (but we won’t worry about that… sigh).  

In all honesty, I am a wee- bit lost and unsure as to where I am going… but aren’t we all? And the reality is that we NEVER know that what we are doing now is guaranteed to lead us on the right path.  But what we do know is that we can always find a way to take in what the journey gives us, whether it be good or bad.  So for now, let’s find comfort in that and thank Covid for giving us the opportunity to rebuild.  With fear, there is change and with change, there is growth and I can’t help but be thankful for the process. This feels like a rebuilding year, and I am welcoming it with open arms…. I hope you will join me!

The photos featured in my Community and Covid gallery were taken on Friday May 8th and I hope they convey a small piece of what our community is facing.  With fear, there is togetherness, accommodation and hope and while we are all being impacted on some level, it is my hope that these can be a reminder of the growth that is to come.

Stay well and never forget that there is hope in the hard! 

A Blessed Quarantine

Thank you quarantine,…

for giving me time with my family and time to rest,

for allowing me to be the protector of my children during this unprecedented time,

for making me realize how time spent with my kids is just as important as time spent with myself,

for helping me to find even more purpose in the silence,

for encouraging me to see my potential and push for the things that I know that I deserve,

for shifting my perspective on what it means to live purposefully and minimally,

for living room tent camping on school nights,

for giving me a front row seat to the hard work that my husband puts into his job on the daily,

for providing me with a space to find the confidence in my own gifts, and doing so without the need for approval from others,

for the daily reminders that a messy home is a blessed home,

for showing me that I can’t do it all,

for failed moon dough recipes,

for friend time that is more purposeful and needed,

for reminding me that little gestures are the drivers of love and kindness,

for being the setting in which I get to witness the growth of my children as they grow into their independence and realize that they too can make the most of this already challenging situation,

and for consistently showing me that there is joy in the journey.

Thank you, quarantine.  And may you bless others with these perspectives as we all navigate this unpredictable time. 

Let’s Unravel Some Things…

First off, welcome and I am sure you are wondering what this whole “blog with perspective” platform is all about.  Well, first off, it feels vague and trust me, I get it! To offer some clarity, here is what it’s not.  I am not looking to guide you through your health and wellness, providing you with all the green beauty and clean eating options available.  I am not going to be sharing investment ideas and leading you on a trail to financial wellness; although, God knows I need one of those.  I am not here to tell you who wore it best and I am certainly not here to look like I have it all together.  In fact, I am here to show you how I do not and maybe give you a glimpse of how celebrating the chaos and diving deep into the imperfections gives you a different view.   

As a budding optimist, in recovery from a life of a glass-half-empty perspective, I have learned to find joy in the smallest of things.  Hard truth…. life is hard, but it is blessed with imperfections and it is dressed in misconceptions.  It just takes a little digging to find the clarity and it takes a little perspective to find the joy that may be buried down deep. 

So, next, you are probably wondering where this idea came from and what compelled me to create such a space.

Well, let me just start from the beginning.

Writing hasn’t always been a passion of mine.  I can recall winning a couple of essay contests in elementary and middle school, excelling in my high school journalism class and feeling overloaded with research-based reports for my undergraduate and master’s degrees.  Let’s just say I was good at it, but I didn’t exactly find joy in it or seek out opportunities to put pen to paper.  I mean, I always thought people who enjoyed journaling must be “chill” and insightful and they probably had a lot of cool perspectives on life that I just didn’t.  

Fast forward to my mid-late 20’s when I became a wife, a homeowner, and a mother of two boys with a full-time job at a local non-profit organization.  Life was full (or so I thought) and nothing outside of the everyday professional and household obligations, an occasional day away, and maybe a cocktail or two in between was happening.  That was life and while I was so thankful for it all, I didn’t know that it could all change so drastically and so quickly.

Now, there is a lot to unravel but I won’t throw it all at you here; at least not yet.  But rest assured that I will certainly give you some bits and pieces along the way. 

Instead, I will just say this…

It is crazy how a cancer diagnosis can shift your outlook on life, from glass-half-empty to glass-half-full.

It feels like a major life event such as this should have the opposite effect, at least to some degree.   For, me, this wasn’t the case and if anything, it gave me perspective and a giant shove into the optimistic side of life. 

It all started on Saturday March 6th, 2016. The boys, my husband and I had just bought tickets at the local movie theater to catch the evening show.  After purchasing tickets, we decided to play around at the nearby park, enjoy the nice weather and then head home for the day to relax until it was time to head over to the theater again.   Home we went, and relax we did!   

To get right to it, as we were lounging around, we found an unusual rash on our five-year-old son’s lower rib cage.  This was concerning to us and added to the worries that we had, stemming from other health issues occurring that, at that point, we had been unable to find concrete answers to.  Being the glass-half-empty type person that I was and the one who overthinks everything, I felt it necessary to pick up the phone and text our pediatrician.  She then instructed us to call the ER, and under their direction, we headed to get our son checked in and evaluated.  After blood tests, and a few hours of waiting in the ER, my husband and I received the news that tests revealed severe anemia and blood cell counts that would indicate likely signs of Leukemia. The news was devastating for us both; panic set in, tears flowed, and a consistent breath was hard to find.  I was speechless and my husband was our strength.  Our son had cancer. The glass-half- empty me came out in full force and went straight to the worst-case scenarios.  I was asking myself questions like, “how long do we have” vs. telling myself, “we will fight this.”   For me, life was forever changed from that moment on and with so much fear, anxiety and unpredictability, I had to find a different voice; one that came from a place of strength and honesty in my vulnerability.  I had to say good-bye to the mindset that life wasn’t where I wanted it to be and embrace the beauty and imperfections that life presents to us daily, even with cancer being a major component.  I had no choice but to be strong.

Thankfully, as Austin underwent 40 months of intensive chemotherapy and ten rounds of cranial radiation, I was able to find the beauty in the hard and share it with my son and with those that love him dearly.  Writing (and photography) helped me find the voice that I needed to be strong for my son, and my family and it helped me see life from a whole different view.   It was a difficult and life-changing journey, but it was one that paved a path for all of us to grow together.  

Looking back, this new and budding perspective that came from walking alongside my warrior of a son, his younger comedian of brother and my committed and grounded husband as we all fought hard against such a critical illness; writing gave me the foundation to push through the next challenge that life was about to hand over to me.

On March 20th, 2019, my mother, my best friend, my constant supporter and my mentor was diagnosed with Anaplastic Thyroid cancer, a terminal cancer with little to no-chance of survival.   Yes, it was another diagnosis that came out of left field, but this was not the same.  Her diagnosis brought me to my knees.  Austin had hope, but my mother didn’t.  She was only given time, and this hit hard as I felt my strength slipping.  In the first month, I lost myself and my need to write because putting pen to paper just made it feel too real.  With no idea of how long I had left with her, I was about to watch her go through something that I never could have imagined, and I had to stay strong.  I had to be the person that she had always been for me. 

I prayed a lot, but I couldn’t write.  

As time went on and as my mom received news after news, whether it was uplifting or a step back, I was able to gain some perspective again, even though writing still wasn’t a thing.  Every moment with her was purposeful and intentional because it had to be.  I wasn’t going to let life be about loss, and I was going to do my best to give her my most committed and loving self while giving her a shoulder to cry on and a place where the tiniest moments could be celebrated.   Austin’s journey taught me that and writing brought it all to the surface.

Sadly, we lost her that September and I again lost my strength.  Her absence left a huge gaping whole in my heart and there was no filling it. Depression and anxiety set in and when it was time, so did my writing.  I was back to searching for the perspective that I once had and needed again.  I needed to be reminded that there is beauty in the hard, telling myself daily that…

Life is too short, and it’s all about perspective.

My mom was a teacher of this, and I look forward to sharing more about her with you further down the road.  For now, I am just thankful to have this platform to be able to provide myself and you with beautiful reminders that there is beauty in the hard and that perfection is not what guides life.  It is your perspective.

Now, if you need me too, I will claim a niche to hopefully give you some confidence in the type of content that I will be sharing here.  So, with that, let’s just call River + Bee a lifestyle blog, but one with a little perspective, a moderate amount of chaos and a whole lot of authenticity. 

I am looking forward to sharing with you, the challenges that come with parenting and the beautiful chaos that accompanies it all. I am eager to share the thoughts that are constantly running around in my heart and mind when it comes to grief and hardship, some spur of the moment and some that will grow over time. I know it will be uplifting and a place worth visiting, and I hope you will find comfort in the journey.

Thanks for reading friends and cheers!

Here is to the hope that you will check back in!