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.

I entered the cab, my family tumbling in behind me, and saw a well-loved guitar resting in the front seat.  My heart instantly warmed.  I wasn’t sure why.  

We pulled away from the airport curb and the taxi driver immediately put on his personal mix CD of slow latin luscious music.  He gave my husband a few bars to settle in and then handed him an egg shaker (mini maraca).  In a Russian accent he said,  “Go ahead and try.”

It was one AM.  We had been traveling for fifteen hours.  Taking a rhythm test was hardly the mood in the front seat. My girls and I silently waited to see what Alex would do.  He started slowly . . . shake shake tap.  Shake shake tap. Nope, that wasn’t it.

Tap shake tap. Tap shake tap.  Closer, but not quite with the music.

The large bald head behind the wheel nodded along and then gave encouragement, “It’s harder when the music is slow.”

We all listened more intently with this new knowledge and with the second shaker Mr. Cabbie pulled out to add more rhythm to the melody.

I had to try.  It was harder to go slow than I thought.

I went to bed knowing that we had received an important message.  In the morning I understood it.

Most of us just finished a wonderful period of Thanksgiving slow. Lazy days without routine or rhythm.  Now comes the first week of December.  We will be tempted to dive in, fast paced, in our normal rhythm that is easy because it’s the beat we always play.  But what if we were to consciously try to find a slower rhythm as we begin and end our days. 

It will be harder to maintain the rhythm at first.  But we will be more focused.  More expansive.  More creative and kind.  

Take out your imaginary shaker and try this song for practice.  You can do it!

How playful are you? How easily can you shift into a place of lightness?  

I know I take life too seriously. I may appear light and playful, but often on the inside I am anything but.  Can you relate?

Sometimes our bodies have to tell us to lighten up. My back went out last month.  Last week I went to Las Vegas and got hives.  Literally, all over my body.  Not necessarily surprising.  Vegas can do that.  But to me, the hives symbolized a place of stress that my body, mind and emotions go, even when there isn’t obvious reason to. Even the corners of my natural smile turn down.  I actually have to work at my grin!

My husband looks at me and scratches his head.  He is a great example of someone who uses play as a strategy for lightening his load.  One night at dinner he jumped up from the dinner table and announced he was going to be late.  

“For what?” I asked.

“For my D.J. lessons!”

He forgot to tell me.

The next night, no joke, he pulls me aside, “Don’t tell the girls but I signed up for trampoline lessons tonight.  I want to surprise them and do a backflip!”  

Disappointed he came back after an hour, only learning safety procedures and seat drops; but that didn’t stop him.

The next day he came home late and bruised, “Babe, you’ve got to try Krav Maga!  It’s amazing!”
  It’s summer time, a natural time of year to relax a little and play a bit more.  It is important.  You know the research.  It releases all of the good hormones, keeps us young, and awakens the creative, crusty corners of our brain.  

Martha Beck, in her book Finding Your Way in a Wild New World, talks about play being sacred; a path to wordlessness and expansion.  She also shares that most humans resist learning  “something substantially new” once they reach the age of 23.

How can you be more playful this summer?

I started small by practicing my smile constantly.  It has lightened everything: shopping, driving, typing. Try it! I’m going to seek out small moments to be lighter in my decisions and reactions. 

I committed to play more with my daughters this summer.  I'm talking about sustained, engaged, active play.  I'm not sure why this is so difficult, but I know I’m not alone.  I also know it's important for all of us to model playful behavior for our children to counter the compulsive over-working way of life that grips us all. 

Work has playful possibilities too. Preparing for the launch of my book has been weighing me down. This week I decided to approach it as a playful project.  I already feel more creativity seeping into me!  Is there an area of your work life that feels heavy right now? Can you reframe your relationship with it?

And when it comes to trying something new, I’m going to follow Alex to his next class . . . actually I just learned it’s going to be kite boarding, so maybe not. If you have an experience you want to try, let me know. I’ll be your buddy!

In life things break.  Right now I have a broken toe, dishwasher again, a favorite bowl, a chipped friendship, and a little broken dream.

When something breaks it requires our attention.  I can tell you from experience, if you don’t stop and tend to it you will get a foot in a walking cast, piles of dirty dishes, glass splinters, a nagging conscience, and chronic malaise.   

No matter how aggravating, uncomfortable, or overwhelming it may be, the sooner we deal with what’s broken, the lighter we become.

Whether it requires patience for a slow heal, help from others, piecing it together or letting it go . . . doing the work is the important exercise.  

When material things break, we are immediately reminded of what really matters in life.  When we physically break, it’s a forced exercise in self care.  When parts of our lives feel broken, we are invited to find our most vulnerable and most strong selves.  All gifts in life.

What’s broken for you? Might it be life’s invitation to slow down, pay attention, and do the work?

May “Doing the Work” in your life be less about fixing and more about accepting imperfection, being comfortable with the uncomfortable, knowing when to let go, feeling your strength, healing with your heart, and lightening your load.

And while we work on ourselves, may we all continue to work together to heal our broken world.  It needs us.