A Life Well Built

At the beginning of the month I wanted a transformation. I wanted things to be different and by different I meant better. I wanted to be better.

I spend a lot of time wanting that.

I’m a continuous improvement junky and I’m always looking for jump starts, challenges, commitments I can make that will make me better. So at the beginning of June, in search of a transformation, I began the 30X30 challenge hosted by my friend Khara. I signed up for the 30 day Blogathon hosted by Michelle Rafter. I also put myself back in the pool.

Thirty days to transform. Go!

It’s Day 24 and Khara wants us to write about a mistake we’ve made. I made a mistake by planning a transformation.

In Which She Used a Snake, a Blogger, an iPhone, and Finally Rain

Yesterday after reading this great piece by Ollin Morales on the Courage to Create blog I did what a dutiful blog reader does: I shared it. (hint hint)

 

I shared it because it talks about technology and how our addiction to it has dehumanized us in many ways. He said technology may make things easier and more accessible, it may fill our lives with information and data but it does not provide knowledge.

 

Daisy @ Reedy River photo by KDW

I agreed with Ollin so much that I shared his post (another hint) and really tried to take his message to heart. Deep, spiritual, fulfilling knowledge like the origin of the soul and the irreplaceability of true friendship cannot be found through technology.

I agreed.

Then I pulled up the Map My Run app on my iPhone, stuck my earbuds in, chose a podcast from the HBR library and set out for a run.

Under Armored and plugged in, I let my high tech running shoes strike pavement and I ran.

The first podcast was about motivation and the guests had written an article about two distinct types of motivation. They called the types promotional and preventional.

She's five, reluctantly, on her birthday

We are in Brando, racing down the interstate, and my daughter says, “Mom, spell grass.”

“G-R-A-S-S,” I say.

Photo by KDW 2013

“Spell flower.”

“F-L-O-W-E-R,” I say.

“Spell cloud.”

“C-L-O-U-D.”

“Spell iPod.”

It’s Hollie Bear’s birthday. That’s right, a full year since I wrote this.

I can’t believe it.

There’s a song Hollie and I think of as our song in which the lyrics say, “If you only knew how long I had waited for someone to come along and change my life the way you’ve done.”

The Wrong Love Song

Are you the one Bruno Mars regrets?

When he sings, “I hope he buys you flowers, and holds your hand, gives you all his hours, when he has the chance,” is he wishing he hadn’t taken you for granted?

Bruno croons that he was wrong and that he knows it’s probably too late to apologize for his mistakes.

He says the loss of you haunts him every time he closes his eyes.

And the problem with that is:

We all want to be you.

We all think we are that girl. In so many break ups we just know that boy doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s going to regret leaving me.

Someday, like Mariah said, the one you gave away will be the only one you’re wishing for.

And then Bruno agrees: he does wish for her, for me, for you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve and suffering your first rejection as I was when Mariah told me that there would be a time when that boy would be cold and lonely but I wouldn’t need his love anymore.

Or if you’re 19 and Alanis Morissette tells you he’ll feel it when you scratch your nails down someone else’s back.

Or Natalie Merchant suggests sometimes when he makes love to her he might say your name.

We all want to be the one that got away.