We only had fifteen minutes.  “I think we can do this,” I said as we parked our car in the bus station parking lot.  My husband and I hopped out and headed for a lone boulder in the overgrown grass, with comb and scissors in hand.  Alex needed a haircut before returning to San Francisco from Tahoe.  I’ve been cutting his hair for years.

As I worked diligently to finish before the bus arrived a woman approached us, “I don’t know who you are, where you are from, or what you are doing, but would you please give me a haircut?” 

She went on to explain in a shaky voice that she had lost her house and her husband to cancer ten months ago.  Carmelle was living in her van and was about to collect survivor benefits the next day. 

“I just want bangs like I used to have and this weight off of my shoulders.”

How could I say no? 
 
So she took her place on the rock.  I warned her, “You know I’m not formally trained and the wind is blowing pretty hard.”

“Just do it. Please.  I trust you.”  

Each time I asked her for guidance she replied, “I trust you. Do what you think is right.”

In between the silence and her sharing her story of their loving marriage and her hard knocks, she would break into tears, “I can’t believe you are doing this for me.”

I took a big gulp as I cut four inches away from her eyes. 

“You know I used to have dishwater blond hair.  Can you see my roots?”  

I could see her roots, the hardship of the years in her lined face, and the weight she was carrying being lifted with each inch I took off. 

I gave her a final hug and a wish for a lighter new chapter that matched her hair.  She crossed the parking lot, hopped back into her van, and took a peek into her rear view mirror.  I held my breath.  

Carmelle's wide smile and a big thumbs up are still clear in my mind. 

So is the weight of her desperate request. 

We all carry weight. Most of it is hidden from others; we feel it’s ours alone to bear. That impromptu haircut on the boulder showed me that we all can lift the weight of another. We both needed courage: she needed to step out of the van and ask; I needed to say yes and try.

Then came ease . . . connection . . . support . . . relief and an opening to new possibilities.  How can you lift the weight of another?  How can others support you?

Sometimes needs can’t be ignored: a car that doesn’t start, a sick child, an argument, a leaking roof.  This urgent straight forward “tending to” is a constant part of life.

This week I found myself in tune with a different layer of "tending to".  My eyes landed on my silver teapot that hasn’t been polished in a year.  I took an extra moment to look at myself in the mirror and plainly saw the need for a hair appointment.  It was my daughter's birthday and I had a momentary desire to make a cake from scratch rather than out of a box.  As I was standing in line at the dry cleaners I thought about the fact that my mother washed and ironed all of my father’s shirts.

There was a time when tending to life fit.  When silver was polished, cakes were made from scratch and mothers mended. It’s the stuff that in our modern world can feel unimportant or easy to outsource; able to be put off, not mission critical.

Yet everywhere I looked, something was staring back saying, “deal with me”. This part of life can't truly be ignored. You still see it and feel it weighing you down. What keeps calling out to you?

There is a difference between, "dealing with" and "tending to". They have different energies. Can you feel it? To Tend is defined as: To pay attention.

What if you allowed yourself to pay attention to the people and parts in your life that are asking for care, love, time. What if you tended to them without guilt or stress . . . with full breaths that create a sense that it is time well spent?

I decided to let myself be free this week to do some of the little and big things that I dance around, avoiding, week after week. I worked with an amazing rockstar organizer and cleaned up my garage. I dusted the leaves of a plant.  I polished some silver. I mended a sweater. I checked in on a neighbor.

The beautiful part of tending to life, is that life responds and smiles back at you.  Your heart warms. You slow down, nurture, and are nurtured in return. You become more connected with all the parts of life that are there for you: your surroundings, your belongings, your loved ones, your own heart.

It really works.  Our Thanksgiving holiday is an annual built-in pause for gratitude.  Full tummies, time with loved ones, vacation days giving space for reflection, lovely autumn weather, Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving on TV reminding us of the Pilgrims’ quest for freedom, which we still benefit from today. Really, it’s perfect.

And we know we need it.  There is more and more research on the power of purposefully focusing on our blessings.  It shifts our biochemistry, health and emotional well being. We want to operate from this place.  It sounds good, so we make it a goal.  It feels good, so we periodically practice.

And on days like Thanksgiving, we stay in it. Can you feel this shift in yourself over this holiday? Expansion, energy, joy, patience, balance?

The space for reflection in my own life brought forward an interesting question.  Once we’ve landed in gratitude, what’s next?

My immediate answer was, “Action!”  I need to share my blessings . . .  partially out of desire, part obligation.  My husband and I have dug a little deeper into our pockets, responding to the year-end invitations to give.  I am volunteering at  Macy’s kitten window today with my daughters.  I reached out to make sure my circle of family felt my love.  It all felt good.  Appropriate.  Natural.

Yet the question hasn’t gone away. What’s after gratitude?

This morning I woke up with a different answer ~ Peace.

If practicing gratitude is a means, then I believe the endpoint is peace.   Peace that comes from lifting up out of our own place of scarcity, comparison, and suffering.  Gratitude gives us extra capacity for peace.  We are more able to be compassionate, to understand the truth of others, to share ourselves.

I always wished Thanksgiving wasn’t so close to the Christmas holiday season, but now I see the beautiful link and flow.  Giving thanks drops us into our own center of peace, preparing us not just to wish for Peace on Earth as we stamp our holiday cards, but also to bring peace to our corner of the Earth, through our energy, actions and our blessings.

I was making lunch when Eva walked into the kitchen and said, "Daddy, would you braid my hair?"  

Alex's reply surprised me, "Of course," as he assumed a seated position.  I knew he didn't know how to braid.

Resisting every urge to insert myself into this sweet father-daughter moment, I peered out of the corner of my eye to watch my dearest husband getting a good grip on the already-parted three sections of wet hair.

There was quiet, as my husband took a calm assessment of the situation.  And then I received a gentle request to assist.  As I gave him the most minimal guidance possible, the braiding began and ended with the rubber band.

"Let me know what my grade is Eva," he yelled as Miss Style marched into the bathroom.  I held my breath to hear, "I'd give it a B minus Dad. It sticks out at the bottom but is very centered."

Extremely pleased, Alex announced that "Big Al's Braid Shop" was now open for business.

Are you there for others? “Being There” sometimes requires saying yes, even when we aren’t sure we can do it or want to do it.  

Who is there for you?  Are you asking for what you need?  Sometimes others need to know how to Be There for us. Is it time, support, a listening ear, help, space, permission to dream big, patience . . .

Invite others to Be There for you and see what shops open for business. You may be surprised.

Let me know!

There is a lot of focus, research, and desire for energy in our world right now.  I am no expert.  All I know is that when I woke up this morning, I didn’t have enough.  After struggling for an hour I had the luxury of crawling back in bed for twenty minutes.  It made all the difference.  

I have spent the last two years doing an independent study on energy that won’t lead to any degree but has significantly altered my life.  It started when I was diagnosed with hypo-thyroidism, an auto immune condition that can completely drain you of energy if untreated.

I have learned what you already know too.

Energy impacts everything.

It is our ability to get through the day with grace.

It’s the fuel that brings passion to our relationships, our bedroom, our projects, our life’s meaning.

Energy is a space you create in the company of others.

It can create focus or frenzy, depending on how you manage it.

It is the pockets in our body that hold our emotions, working for us or against us, ideally through us.

We can manage energy through the foods we eat, the sleep we get, the endorphins we generate with exercise, and I believe, most importantly, the space we create to connect with it.

We can collect energy not just in moments of rest, but also in moments of inspiration, calm, achievement, love, reflection, connection, exploration, or gratitude.

As we grow in awareness and respect for ourselves as a body of energy, we can hone in on our patterns of thought and actions, the beliefs we carry, and the habits we practice that either fuel or deplete us.

For example, this week I practiced the mantra, “I live my life with ease.”  I need to say it hourly. It’s amazing, energy-giving medicine.  When we lighten up on ourselves, there is more space for energy to enter in.  It seeps into our cells between our breaths, our thoughts, and our moments of calm.

Fear, anger, insecurity, doubt, guilt, blame, regret are all slow energy leaks.

Creating a loving discipline for managing your energy is important because the more energy you have, the more you can share with others, without it being at the expense of yourself.

Let this weekend be an experiment in determining what you need to be fully energized.  Refuel and then share it lovingly.