The last day of school: those words are pregnant with possibility and opportunity. An entire summer waits to unfold in endless sunny days. I remember the last day of fifth grade vividly. I learned two huge lessons that summer, and though I don’t always apply them, they remain a part of who I am.

In fifth grade, I was the marble champion of the school. I started out with a small Ziploc baggie of tiger-eye marbles purchased from K-Mart. By the end of the year, I had a fine velvet marble bag. Actually, it was a re-purposed Crown Royal bag, but at that tender, naïve age, I didn’t know the difference. My marble bag brimmed with clearies, steelies, tubbies and solids. Those were the names of the marbles I had won from everyone at school. I was the reigning queen of marbles at Sunset Elementary. On the last day of school, I brought my prized possession for one last day of marble conquest. Unfortunately, in the excitement of summer vacation, I left my marbles in my desk.

I went back to the school a week later and sought out the janitor, who insisted he had never seen my beloved purple bag. I cried for days. I knew exactly where I had left it. I figured someone had taken that awesome bag of marbles and would taunt me with it in middle school, insisting that he or she was the actual marble champion. Or that janitor; maybe he had given it to a thankless grandchild, who could never appreciate the hard work that went into winning all those awesome marbles. I lost sleep thinking about my favorite tubby, a clear, light purple beauty, scarred with the nicks of battles won. I remembered every marble in that bag, and mourned the loss of every one.

But the thing is, when I got to sixth grade, no one cared anymore about marbles. I had figured there would be a big marble showdown on the first day of school, as kids from different elementary schools competed to prove their worth. Wrong. There were no marbles in middle school. I was a little relieved that I didn’t bring that purple bag to sixth grade and seal my identity as a nerd.

The second lesson I learned that year also kept me awake nights. At the end of fifth grade, the math unit we worked on dealt with telling time. I could not quite get the hang of telling time, and I struggled with it throughout the month of May.

At the end of the year, I still couldn’t quite tell time, I am now embarrassed to say. All summer long, I worried that there would be a big test on the first day of sixth grade. I imagined all the sixth graders in the lunchroom, poring over the time-telling test.

I imagined all summer long, that those of us who failed the test would be sent back to Mr. Arnold at the fifth grade building. I dreaded returning to Mr. Arnold’s class. Not only because of the time telling thing, but Mr. Arnold and I did not end the year on a happy note. I made fun of his bald head, while swinging on the swings, and he sent me to the principal’s office. Apparently, not all bald people share my sense of humor about the advertising revenue possible on such a large, smooth surface.

Anyway, much to my relief, there was no test on the first day of middle school. No one even cared whether I could tell time. It took me about a week to realize that I wasn’t being sent back to Mr. Arnold’s class. After that first week of school, I finally relaxed enough to enjoy being in middle school.

The lessons I learned are these: First, don’t waste your summer vacation — or any day of your life, or even a moment of time — worrying about stupid stuff. Most of the stuff we worry about never happens. I lay awake all those summer nights, worrying about a test that never came. That pattern has continued throughout most of my life, but as I get older, I realize what a waste of time all that worry is. So relax. Don’t worry. Everything will work out.

The second lesson I learned: Don’t take yourself or your accomplishments too seriously. Oh. You’re the reigning marble champion of fifth grade? Wow. Everyone in middle school will be really impressed with that. Actually, we are all just people doing the best we can, getting through life. Whether you are the president of this, or the champion of that, it doesn’t matter. Everyone is due equal respect. We all have successes and failures.

Don’t try to make yourself better than other people, and don’t try to make everyone better than you. Everyone you meet has his or her own hard battle to fight. The best thing you can do is to be kind.

My advice to everyone about to enjoy summer vacation: Don’t worry, everything will work out in the end, and be kind. Everyone is fighting a hard battle.

Namaste, friends.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up, only to discover that life is not a bed of roses. Life is more like a messy teenager who spends the night, steals all the covers and throws them on the floor when she gets too hot.

At least, that is what my life is like. Just when I think I’ve got everything figured out and think it’s smooth sailing ahead, suddenly a tempest breaks, the sails collapse and I am dead in the water, overcome by the enormity of the waves.

Okay. I realize in retrospect that the description seems a little overdone. It’s not all doom and gloom from where I sit, but sometimes life is hard.

We all have those moments when we feel like we are down and getting kicked in the teeth. Who among us has not felt overcome by the enormity of life?

And for me the question is, how do we pick ourselves up and carry on? Where does the patience to persevere through life’s trials come from, and how do we tap into that when we have reached our last nerve?

I remember standing in line at a “fast” food restaurant back when my children were small. I was very pregnant. And by that, I mean I was as large as a house. Holding a crying toddler on one hip, taking orders from my teen-aged kids on either side, and balancing as another crying child tugged on my leg, I prayed for patience. Impatient people glared all around me, not only because of the swirl of noise encompassing me, but also because of the delay, as grim-faced cashiers seemed to take extra long to prepare food, and the orders seemed extra complicated.

It was in that instant of chaos, that I had an epiphany.

We do not magically receive patience. It is in those moments of utter pandemonium, deep depression, or sheer desperation that we have a choice. We can choose to respond to our circumstances with criticism, anger and outrage, or we can choose patience.

This applies to myriad life circumstances, not just standing in line, surrounded by screaming children. Frustration happens every day. Coworkers can be annoying (except, of course, my own coworkers, who exhibit unusual patience with my idiosyncrasies). Traffic lights, bad drivers, and icy roads can irritate. In any given day, most of us are faced with a litany of challenges to our peace of mind.

It is in these moments, when we are tempted to be least patient, that our request for patience is actually answered. We are patient because we choose to be. We endure because we choose to continue putting one foot ahead of the other. We persevere through trials because that is what we choose to do.

It is not easy to choose patience, but it is still a decision you can make consciously. When faced with those things that cause you to grind your teeth, try taking a deep breath. You don’t have to get all ‘Zen’, as I do, but you can breathe deeply. And just for a moment, try to see things differently.

Those kids aren’t screaming just to annoy you. Unless they are, in which case, they are still screaming and you can still practice patience. Your coworker isn’t chewing ice just to be irritating, maybe she feels tense and chewing ice helps her feel less stressed. The traffic didn’t change deliberately to make you late.

None of what’s happening around you has anything to do with you. And when you accept that things happen regardless of your peace of mind, you can choose to be patient.

We can all be patient. We can all persevere. We can all endure. What it takes is a decision, followed by one step.

One step at a time, we will all get through to the end.

Namaste, friends

Busy as a Bee

Just a Thought

By Deborah Demander

Everyone I meet has a busy life. It seems like everyone is bustling around working, volunteering, and running non-stop.

Most days, I’m up by 5 a.m. and I don’t stop running until after 10 p.m. I’m not complaining, just noticing that everyone around me is as busy as I am.

At an early morning breakfast meeting, I asked a friend how he was doing.

“I’m really busy,” he replied. “Sometimes I wonder if every day is going to be a grind for the rest of my life.”

I agreed with him, but as I thought about it later, I realized that life doesn’t have to be a grind. We all have choices. We choose where to work, where to live, who to marry, what church to attend, what activities to be involved in.

Everything in your life is there as a result of choices you have made. If you don’t like where you are or what you’re doing, make a different decision. The effects of a decision stay in place until you make a different decision.

If you have made a decision and find that you don’t like where its taking you, perhaps it’s time to reevaluate.

I like having a busy life. I enjoy volunteering my time to make the community a better place, and I like my work, which generally casts me far and wide throughout the region. Last Wednesday found me driving to Kemmerer for an early morning meeting with the Governor,  attending the Kemmerer Rotary Club meeting, then driving like a crazy woman down the interstate in my Subaru (yes, the same pig-mobile) to attend another meeting with the Governor and Uinta County officials. Once that was finished, I took pictures of an event in town, then attended a parking meeting.

But I didn’t complain, because I like to be busy. Well. I may have complained a little the next morning when my alarm went off, but overall it was a fun day. If I didn’t like to be busy, I would do something else.

Many people, when I ask how they are doing, reply with a heavy sigh and a roll of the eyes, “I’m sooo busy.”

We are all busy. If you don’t like being busy, do something different. It is okay to say no to things you don’t want to do, or things that don’t match your priorities. We often loose sight of what is important in our lives, and fill our days with things we hate doing.

Stop. Don’t fill your life with things you don’t like. Life is too short to be dismal. Your day ought to be an outward expression of who you really are. If your activities don’t accurately reflect who you are, then do something different. Life is a series of choices. Choose who you will be and how you will represent yourself by the activities you participate in and the people you surround yourself with.

If those things aren’t an accurate representation, then change them.

I know. Change is hard. We all have decisions to make about the kind of life we want to have. You can decide today who you want to be, what you want to do, and what you want to have.

If you don’t want to be busy, then do something else. Say no. Stay home. Relax. There are lots of people out there willing to step in and fill the void. Although change is difficult, it’s not as hard as living a disingenuous life.

Any decision you made can be changed. You don’t have to do something drastic, such as quit your job, but you can look first for smaller changes that feel better, and more in line with your priorities. Sometimes a small shift is all it takes to feel better about life.

Deborah, in Hebrew, means bee. I like to stay busy, like the bees in the garden working. But bees still take time to smell the flowers.

When you are inundated with work and activity, don’t get frustrated. Enjoy. And if you don’t enjoy, then stop and do something else. And whatever you are doing, wherever you are, take a hint from the bees, and pause in your busyness to smell the flowers.

Namaste friends