The New Year is upon us, replete with promises that we will try harder, do better, be more this and less that. How often do we each face the fresh new calendar and promise ourselves that this year will be different?

I know I’ve made my share of resolutions in the past. I usually resolve to lose weight, to get up earlier, to be nicer, to stop swearing, save more money, give more to others…

The list goes on and on. The first week of the New Year usually finds me sleep deprived and hungry, swearing like a sailor and exhausted from the effort of trying to remember everything that I promised myself I would do.

This year, however, will be different.

I am not resolving to be more or less of anything for the entire year. Instead, I am choosing in each moment to be the person that I want to be. As I walk through my day, I will examine my thoughts, words and actions and I will ask myself, “Is this who I want to be?”

If the answer is no, then I hope to stop midstream and change course. It is never too late to change, and now is the perfect moment to be exactly what you’d like to be.

This, of course, is easier said than done. This weekend, I got a trial run when I drove the kids to Park City for a movie and some shopping. First of all, there were about a million people in Park City for Olympic trials. But, I wasn’t going to let a little California traffic ruin my Zen mood. I don’t know how they learn to drive in California, but after being cut off half a dozen times, I silently blessed each driver, hoping their day was brighter after nearly killing me.

Then, at the movie theater, the guy selling tickets said, “There is no showing of  “The Hobbit” at 1 p.m. The internet was wrong.”

Fortunately, I didn’t have to open up a can of crazy on him, because the people in line ahead of me did. I stood by serenely, watching the tourists go bananas. Coincidentally, they decided to show “The Hobbit” at 1 p.m.

I wasn’t fazed when I chose the slowest popcorn line, nor was I perturbed when the clerk dropped my giant cup of diet coke on the floor. When the popcorn burned, because the kid was cleaning up the diet coke, the guy behind me muttered, “I’m not eating burned popcorn.”

I peacefully replied, “I like burned popcorn.”

Surprised he said, “Really? You like that?”

“No”, I answered from my happy place, “I just tell myself I do, so I won’t hate it.”

He looked at me as though I were some crazy hippy chick. As if.

All was well until the car ride home. And then, after an hour in the car, two hours in the theater, and a ride back to Wyoming, my kids opened up a can of crazy on me. They started poking, prodding, arguing, whining, and making the trip as miserable as possible.

And the drivers tailgating the entire way did not help my irritation.

I tried talking nicely. I tried distracting them with conversation.

Me: “Wasn’t that a great movie?”

Gunnar (with his headphones turned up all the way): “WHAT?!”

Lexi (jabbing him in the ribs): “Be in the present Gunnar. Mom isn’t going to keep repeating herself.”

Gunnar (louder): “WHAT??!!”

Lexi (yelling): “I SAID, BE IN THE PRESENT. We aren’t going to keep going to the past just because you aren’t listening.”

Gunnar: “WHAT?”

And so it continued for an hour. By the time we reached Evanston, my Zen was gone, my irritation had peaked and my jaw was clenched tight with the effort of not screaming like an insane woman.

Life can be trying. Most days, especially during Christmas vacation, we are challenged from all sides.

We don’t have to resolve to be better parents, to stop yelling, or even to lose weight. We don’t have to commit for a whole year. It just takes a decision in the moment to have things be different. And in some moments, that might take a little longer.

The good news is we always get a chance to start again. We don’t have to wait for a new year, a new week or a new day. We can start today, being the person we want to be.

So, when the kids are yelling, the dogs are barking and the fudge is calling your name, take just a moment to breathe deeply. Pause. Wait. And then be the person you really want to be.

Happy New Year and Namaste, Friends

Most of us will never do great things. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean you aren’t great. You are. I appreciate you. What I mean to say is that most of us will never do that one great thing.

Unfortunately, we put off living, because of that one elusive great thing. Can’t cure cancer? Well, I guess I won’t be a doctor then. Can’t change lives? Then forget teaching. If I can’t get straight A’s, then I might as well not bother with college. I suppose you get the gist. It seems easier to give up, than to be less than great. The perfectionist tendency has led to the abrupt ending of a lot of small things.

Although you are capable of great things, real life is lived amid the small things, and it is those things we can do well.

As we look at our lives, it can become discouraging and disheartening to realize that great things will eternally elude us. What I have discovered, and want to pass on to you, is that each and every one of us can do small things with great love.

Now, don’t roll your eyes. It’s true. Small things surround us on a daily basis. Our lives are defined by the small things we do each day. When you add love to those small things, they become, dare I say, great. Each act can be infused with a great deal of kindness and love. Every act done with intention becomes great in itself.

You don’t have to change the world. It is enough to change where you are. Serve those around you with kindness. Extend forgiveness instead of harshness. Small things done with kindness make a difference in every life.

I’ll share a recent experience to illustrate the power of intention, or the lack thereof.

A friend and I went to lunch together. As we entered the establishment, the person behind the counter was shouting to or at a person in the back.

She didn’t acknowledge us or greet us. She continued her loud, angry conversation and headed toward the back.

When she finally came out, she demanded to know what we wanted. I sheepishly placed my order, feeling like an intruder into a private conversation. The air was alive with their negative energy.

As we found our seats, I said, “I hope that angry girl isn’t making our food.”  Alas and alack. It was meant to be. The angry energy that permeated the restaurant found its way into my lunch, as the girl threw the ingredients together.

I always enjoy the food I eat at this particular restaurant. It is usually pretty tasty. This time, however, I had the worst meal I have ever eaten there. It was bland and tasteless. Although I order the same thing every time I go there, this time was different. It tasted different. And it sat in my stomach all day, a constant reminder of someone else’s anger.

A study in the journal Social Psychological and Personality Science suggests that physical events are influenced by the intentions of those involved.

When you set about your daily tasks, filling yourself with good intentions, or good energy will not only benefit you, but it will also benefit those you serve.

Mother Teresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

The small things you accomplish with great love reflect in your life to magnify and lighten it. Life is lived in the small moments, done with love.

Namaste, friends

It seems I have already lived many lives. I’m not talking about previous lives as a dog, or a goddess, or the president. I was recently talking with a friend about our grown children. As we looked back, into those early days, she commented that it seemed like someone else’s life. Although she remembers doing those things, it feels like someone else lived that life.

And then, another friend said last week, that he would do something in another lifetime. Why wait? You can begin a new life today.

I have lived many lives, and plan to live many more before I die at 111.

There was my nerdy high-school life, during which I wore old neckties from the thrift store, kept to myself and read a lot of books. I still read a lot of books, but now I wear hats, rather than peculiar ties.

There was the life, albeit quite brief, when I was a cheerleader. I thought I would like that life, but the nerd in me cried out in rebellion, and I had to leave that life behind. It didn’t really suit me.

For many years, I lived the life of a meek, mild mannered woman, barefoot and pregnant. I kept my eyes down, my mouth shut and my bible open. While I learned a lot about God and discovered much about myself, my soul was bereft and unexpressed.

There was a life I lived when I wore lots of make-up, fake nails, and high heels every day. That life was a lot of work. And it was not a lot of fun. Most of the lives I lived, before now, were not fun. They were hard.

Henry David Thoreau said, “Most men live lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”

You don’t have just one life. You live one lifetime with many different lives. You are not the same now as you were years ago. And you will be different again. There is one lifetime, during which you can express the song in your heart. Leave the quiet desperation and break free.

You can create the life you want. You can live the song. You can choose a different life.

In this life, I am a writer. That is something I only dreamed of in previous lives. During those lives, I struggled against the quiet desperation that threatened to stifle me. I sought my hearts desire. And one day, I remembered that little girl I had been, who was plucky and brave. That girl wrote a letter to Stephen King. That girl said she would be an author. And when Stephen King wrote back, do you want to know what he said? He said, “If you want to be a writer, then you have to write.”

I finally decided that if I would really be a writer, then I must write. And so I write because it makes my heart sing.

Each of us has a song in our heart. There is something out there, in this world that will make you smile. Seek it out. Your soul longs to express the fullness of itself. You can do this: you can express who you were created to be.

Life is more than quietly waiting. Life is grand. The song must be sung. We each have a different song, a different calling, and a fuller life.

Today you can decide to start a new life. Listen for the song, and let it play. Leave behind the quiet desperation and for a moment listen to your heart. You will know exactly what to do.

Namaste, friends.