Tag: mentors

“Fresh Eyes”

credit: Outlookindia

There is so much heat in the air, that even sitting in the air conditioning feels like being in a tanning bed. I feel like a slug. I don’t want to move. It feels like it takes the gallant effort and mental fortitude of a Navy Seal to psych myself up to go outside, just to get my mail. There’s summer in Florida and then there is “summer in Florida, amirite?!?” We are definitely in “amirite” territory this week. (in case you haven’t heard enough complaining about this unprecedented summer heat wave, I just indulged you.)

I’ve gotten a few dozen new subscribers in the last week or so. Thank you, welcome. I’m so honored. I love to write and I would do it in a void, but it feels truly validating to be read. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I wrote a blog post once about my writing process, and about how what you get in your email, is usually the first draft. I can almost guarantee that you will find at least one typo or grammatical error. That’s why I have my editor (aka my wonderful husband) read my blog post every single morning. My sweet husband then texts me, how much he liked my post and what he got from it, and then right after that text is “And here are all of your mistakes:”. And I always think to myself (almost every single day), “How did I not catch that mistake?!? How did I miss that?? I’ve read over my post 3-6 times before publishing! How does that happen? And how does my husband spot the mistakes every single day, right away?!?”

Now my husband is not critical. He is the most supportive person in my life. My husband just happens to be far more detail oriented than I am. (All you’d have to do is look at our respective packed suitcases, desk tops or individual grocery carts to see how differently our minds work.) While in a hotel room my husband might hone in on the small knick by a light switch, while I, at the same time, am determining what the overall ambiance of the room, the hotel, or even the whole town itself, intuitively feels like to me. My husband is detail oriented and I’m big picture, and this is why we work well together.

And now is the moment that I finally get to my point: “Fresh Eyes” on any situation in your life is so important. An open mind to what these “Fresh Eyes” see, is also equally as important. Make sure that you have at least a couple of people in your life, who you admire, trust, and believe that they have your best interests at heart (friends, family, minister, therapist, mentor). When you have a situation in your life that you want some feedback on, go to your trusted “Fresh Eyes” people. Be open to what “Fresh Eyes” see. Don’t beat yourself up for not seeing what “Fresh Eyes” puts a spotlight on. Your “Fresh Eyes” people are coming into the situation, having never seen it before. When I write my blog posts, my mind already knows what it is trying to say. Often I can’t type the words fast enough. I often miss my mistakes, because my mind already sees what it wants to see. It already has a fixed idea or a prejudice as to what the blog post is saying. “Fresh Eyes” usually don’t come into any situation with a predetermined agenda.

If you prefer “finished product” with few or no typos, just go read my blog on my website in the afternoon. Rarely do I change the ideas or sentences in my posts, but sometimes I get the inspiration to do so. Therefore, what you get in your email every morning, is usually not the final “turn into the teacher” paper. I rely on my favorite “Fresh Eyes” to give me different perspectives, and to help me to clean things up a little bit here and there. Having two extra sets of eyes or more, is never a bad thing with any situation in life. Ask a beautiful monarch butterfly. It has 12,000 eyes (is it a wonder that butterflies are not easy to catch?)!!!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

If You Are Loved

“D.T. was a better person than he was a player, and he was a Hall of Fame player. That tells you how good of a person he was,” said Peyton Manning. “He treated my kids like they were his own. He was there for every teammate’s charity event.”

I was heartbroken to hear the news that Demaryius Thomas, a former professional football player, mostly known for his time with the Denver Broncos, passed yesterday at the age of 33. It is believed that Thomas died while having a seizure in the shower. This is a fear that any of us who love people with seizure disorders, deal with every single day. My son once had a seizure in the shower. I remember my husband ripping off the locked bathroom door that day, as if he were the Incredible Hulk. Any time anyone tragically dies of circumstances related to seizures, it is like a giant gut punch to me and to my family. It makes the gravity of my son’s epilepsy all the more real and visceral to me, but yet like a moth to a flame, I need to know more. I need to understand what happened in these various stories. I think that I am always trying to understand “the whys” and “the hows”, even though this is usually a lesson in futility. Usually “the whys” about anything that happens, often remain a mystery, and yet it is our human tendency to waste a lot of time on “the whys” about anything. The most repeated answer is usually nothing more than “just because.” Let it be. I have to remind myself, again and again, that I am not in control.

I spent a lot of time yesterday reading the stories about Demaryius Thomas. By all accounts he was a wonderful, stand-up man. When he was 11, Demaryius’ mother and grandmother were incarcerated for drug trafficking and they remained in jail for around twenty years. Demaryius was raised by his aunt and uncle. He became singularly focused on becoming an excellent football player and by many accounts, he ended up being one of the greatest receivers to play the game of football. In 2015, Demaryius wrote this wonderful blog post entitled “For Mama” for The Players’ Tribune. Here is an excerpt:

“No amount of money, no amount of fame, no amount of anything in the world can replace your mother. I realized that holding it all in wasn’t good for me, and I reached out to a preacher who really helped me talk through it all. People think orphans are kids whose parents have died, but 80 percent of orphans in the world have at least one parent who is alive somewhere. There are millions of kids just like me all across the U.S., and hundreds of millions all over the world.

We rely on the kindness and the couches of others to get us through the day. I had multiple high school coaches who looked out for me. Multiple college coaches. Deacons. Pastors. Aunties. Uncles. Friends. If even one of those people had let me slip, would you even know my name? Maybe not.

I talk to a lot of kids who have parents in prison, or who left them when they were young for one reason or another. I know the anger. The pain. The fear. Especially the loneliness. They just want somebody to say, “I care about you.” But that doesn’t happen enough, so they get into trouble.

As men, as athletes especially, we don’t like to talk about love. We talk about brotherhood and all that, but not love. But it’s the most important thing in a child’s life. More important than the kind of school you go to, or what neighborhood you live in, or even if you grow up around drugs and violence. If you are loved, you’ll make it out.“

“If you are loved, you’ll make it out.” This blog post struck me for its poignancy and its truth. I have been mentoring two young ladies for three years now. Neither young lady has her father in the picture. Neither of them are wealthy. One of their mothers is a cleaning lady, and the other one’s mother works as a cashier at Wal-Mart. Still, they are amazing, intelligent, talented young women and from the get-go, I would tell my husband and my family that I don’t worry too much about either of them, because it is obvious to me that they are loved. There is no doubt in my mind, that both young women are loved openly and fiercely by their mothers and by their families, and so, from the first time of meeting both of them, I knew that they would be okay. I am just so happy to add to their brimming pots of love, and I am so grateful that they add to my own pot, by loving me back.

If you are loved, you’ll make it out. It always comes down to love, doesn’t it? That’s the “why”. That’s “the how” about anything in life. Just love. Just be love. If you don’t feel like you are loved, then just start loving. It’ll come back to you tenfold. Giving love, automatically starts this miraculous boomerang phenomenon, so that when you give your love away, before you know it, you’ll get whacked in the head with more love than you know what to do with. Just don’t be stingy with your love. Don’t be conditional with your love. Just start loving. Love yourself. Love your life. Love Life. Love everything in your life, even the stuff that’s hard to love. Embody love, because underneath all of the stories, and all of the projections, and all of the insecurities, and all of the scramblings, and all of the puffery, all of the suffering, that’s all there really is to anything . . . Love. Who? Love. What? Love. Why? Love. Where? Love. How? Love. Just Love.

Rest in Peace, Demaryius Thomas. Rest in Love.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.