The Process

For years I’ve had a mantra.  I’ve held it close to my heart.  I’ve whispered it quietly under my breath.  I’ve claimed it as my own and wrapped the simple words around me like a life jacket when the depths of the unknown waters before me were terrifying. The words were nothing profound, nor did they carry in them any special magical powers of transformation, but somehow, I found comfort in them. . . peace.

Trust the process. . . trust the process. . . trust the process. . .

Simple, right?  Nothing too earth shattering, I know.  Still, these words carried me through job transitions, creative ventures, tiptoes out of my comfort zone, and a few failures.  These words have been like a faithful friend to me, patting me on the back and saying gently, it’s all going to be okay.

Recently, though, I’ve begun to wonder if these words are the kind of friend I need in my life.  In a way, these words have been a ‘yes-friend’. Kind of like ‘yes-men’.

You know what I mean, right?  I would assume that many political candidates have to guard against ‘yes-men’.  You know, they are the people who are always nodding their head yes and praising the candidate on every word and idea that escapes his or her mouth.  The yes-man (or woman) wouldn’t dare confront any idea or thought for fear of offending or challenging the esteemed candidate.  Or, more on my level, I think of the American Idol tryouts where a young lady or gentleman stands before J-Lo, Harry and Kieth Urban and screech out a high-pitched, off-tuned serenade that makes our Doodle cover her ears and when they are turned away from Hollywood, they walk into the embrace of their mother who says, those judges don’t know anything, you have a beautiful voice.

(Umm, not helpful, Mom.)

As I’ve really begun to dig deep and examine the things I want in life, I’ve wondered if I’ve used these words in a ways they were never mean to be used.  What if, ‘trust the process’ has given me an excuse to maintain the status quo?  What if these words, that have been so encouraging and comforting, have really only given me reasons to stay exactly where I am?  What if, trust the process, has kept my feet planted firmly on solid ground when really, I should be stepping into the depths of the unknown waters ahead–in the place where my dreams really reside?

It’s easy for me to say that I dream big dreams, but really, I’m not sure that I can say that I chase big dreams.  I’ve used trust the process as a gauge.  If the things I want in life, by some cosmic force of the universe, land in my lap, obviously, it was meant to be.  Otherwise, it wasn’t meant to be and I’m content where I am.  If I really dig deep and think about the process, I wonder how much I should be moving my feet, risking failure, risking rejection, risking in order to love, live, and exist fully in this life.

Maybe, just maybe, the process is far more active than I’ve ever allowed it to be.  Perhaps the process is a constant movement forward, even after I’ve been thrown backward.

A the days pass, and I put more time behind me, I realize how much I want to live this one wild and precious life fully and completely.  Tiptoeing through life just to make it to the finish offers no rewards.  I want to be brave enough to risk living, fully living.  Today, I don’t know what that looks like but I know that it’s more than waiting for the process to happen. . . maybe it’s actually participating in making the process happen.  Not only for me, but for them. . .


They’re watching.


This week. . .

Despite the fact that soccer has begun for Charlie and Chanelle, baseball seems to be all the rage in our front yard. . .

Our neighbors moved back in. . .

V56B4060V56B4061V56B4066V56B4070V56B4071Our cow friends have nothing on Taza, though.

V56B3764V56B4031V56B3759V56B4002V56B2584V56B2593V56B2567-Recovered                                                                                                                    What is that they say about dogs resembling their owners?

Meadow and her very particular style.


. . . and character. . .

5E4A9287V56B4081V56B4083V56B3902V56B3926V56B2462Music of all types. . .

And growing. . . always growing. . .


But laughing, too.  Always laughing. . .
V56B3946                                                                                    They surprised Chad with paper ‘snowballs’ when he got home from work. (It’s the little things, folks.)

I don’t have all the answers right now, but I’m processing the process.  Believing than it’s more than I ever thought it could be.

Happy Weekend, Friends.

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