Coming Around Again

I’ve been here at our family cottage for three weeks and it might be a lifetime or a weekend . . . it’s always the same. The same people (whom I mostly really like and very often love), the same pictures, the same smells, the same food, the same scenery. I get caught up in the sameness. Swallowed whole. I love it and yearn for it and then grow tired of it. After awhile I am ready to go home and after a day or two there, I’ll yearn for this place again. It’s like anything really good: food, sex, love, perfect days, favorite places. It’s fabulous in its right-ness. And then, it passes, and life marches on.

In those perfect moments or tastes, it seems it is the end-all, be-all. And, in that moment it is. But to me, the very best part is that you can have them again. As sad as I am to see a perfect whatever go, I am fortified and lifted up by the knowledge that they come again: a beautiful afternoon down at the beach, a delicious dessert, a perfect night with my husband. Like Carly Simon’s song, “Coming Around Again”; life just keeps coming. And, it’s never all bad. And, it’s never all good. It’s all of it: the good and the bad and the middle of the road. It’s all pieces of the tapestry of our lives.

Coming Around Again
by Carly Simon

Baby sneezes
Mommy pleases
Daddy breezes in

So good on paper
So romantic
But so bewildering

I know nothing stays the same
But if you're willing to play the game
It's coming around again

So don't mind if I fall apart
There's more room in a broken heart

You pay the grocer
You fix the toaster
You kiss the host goodbye

Then you break a window
Burn the soufflé
Scream a lullaby

I know nothing stays the same
But if you're willing to play the game
It's coming around again

So don't mind if I fall apart
There's more room in a broken heart

And I believe in love
But what else can I do?
I'm so in love with you

I know nothing stays the same
But if you're willing to play the game
It will be coming around again

Baby sneezes
(I believe in love)
Mommy pleases
(I believe in love)
Daddy breezes in
(I believe in love)

I know nothing stays the same
(I believe in love)
But if you're willing to play the game
(I believe in love)
It will be coming around again
(I believe in love)

I do believe, I do believe
(I believe in love)
I believe in love
(I believe in love)
I believe in love
(I believe in love)

Coming around again, coming around again

I too believe in love. And I believe in the sanctity of life and its natural unfolding. I honor the unraveling of our days and the shape and form these days give to the months and years of our lives. We are living our lives and creating memories as we march down our own exquisite paths. We pass so many things along the way. Sometimes we stop and sit and enjoy. Other times we hurry by. If we’re lucky, we at least notice the details. And then there are the times and places and people we return to. Those “coming around again” people and places that center us and bring us back to who we are and help inform where we go to next.

I’m savoring the knowledge of the next week as my last here at Higgins this year. I’m a little weary of being away from home and chasing my little ones and I’m also really missing my husband. Time away from him reminds me of the many reasons I love him and his presence in my life. It too is one of those “coming around again” moments: glad that I can’t wait to see him and be back home in our family’s embrace very soon.

Now, as I type this, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ll get home to Nashville and it will be way too hot and the kids will be fussy and bored and my re-entry syndrome will be serious. But, I’ll hold dearly to the knowledge that the next good thing is only moments away . . . coming around again.

Expect Less

A couple years ago I told my brother about a small pocket charm I’d seen in a basket amidst coin-sized angels and peace symbols. It read, “Expect less”. At the time, I was subtly offended by it, optimist that I am. Expect less . . . well that’s crap, I thought. Expect less? Well expect more for God’s sake. Life is short. Play hard. “Expect the best!” is what I thought it should have said.

Ironically, when I opened my birthday card from my brother that year, I found tucked in the card, the small square token inscribed with “Expect less”. I think he sent it as a joke because of our discussion and because of how riled up I was but I also thought there might be more to it.

So I thought about it.

And, I’ve come to the conclusion that there truly is great wisdom to be found there. Particularly for folks – hhh-hmmm – who might have control issues or fondly refer to themselves as recovering perfectionists. In speaking solely for myself, I have always wanted to be the best that I can, to have the best, to do the best. I don’t measure myself against externals but have some crazy internal tape measure that sometimes is impossibly long and unwieldy. And lots of times, I realize amidst my pushing and pulling, that I simply need to cut myself some slack and reel the tape measure in. Aha! Yes. Lower my expectations . . . and expect a little less.

The other piece of this that I’ve figured out since turning over this whole “expect less” theory in my mind is that I think the flip side of the token needs to be inscribed with “Accept what is”. Because if we simply accept what is, our expectations – high or low – cannot ambush us. If we simply accept what is in each moment – and isn’t this truly all we have control over? - we live more fully and presently. Less in our heads and in our expectations of right and wrong, good and bad.

So here I am at Higgins Lake with my kids and my mom. One week down and three to go. I’m literally at one of the most special places on Earth. And I always have a lot of expectations about how this time should go. How much I should be working on Singing Heart Press. How I should be writing every day. Contributing to my blog at least twice a week. Running – not walking – to keep myself in good shape. The list (expectations) could go on.


But I’m going to put my theory into action – every good educator's true measure of success. For my time here at least, for the next three weeks, I am going to “Expect less” and “Accept what is”. If not, I am going to miss so much of this special place. And, I don’t want to miss a thing.

Right now, I hear the wind whispering in the trees, I see the early evening sunlight glittering across the lake – a prelude to the coming sunset. I hear children from the ball field calling to each other and playing at the park. I see our red, white, and blue flag waving in the breeze – a constant reminder of our many blessings. I am writing. I am breathing deeply. My expectations are manageable: to simply accept what is.