Old Dog, New Tricks

Watching Taggart learn to play baseball this spring, I have been impressed by how quickly he has picked up various aspects of the game. Some of it from his coaches, some from the other players, and some from watching the pros on T.V., each piece of information helps him put more of the puzzle of baseball together. Not ever having played before, he has come a long way and has grown to love the game.

Watching him so easily assimilate to the game and its many nuances made me wonder, what happens as we get older and trying something new no longer seems natural? Do we indeed simply become old dogs, unwilling to learn new tricks? Is it fear, or complacency, or laziness, or stuck-in-a-ruttedness? Even when we know we desperately need new tricks, we cling to our old ways. Even when there is a big change and we do not adjust the rest of our lives around it or for it . . . why are we so unmovable?

I remember my high school math teacher once telling us that when he was young his dad made him drive a different route home from school every day. That his dad wanted him to use his mind and to explore his surroundings. To be creative and not make a habit of a single way. How often do we make a habit of a single way? How often do we take different routes? What else might we see or experience for having done so?

As an up-and-coming old dog, I am still open to learning some new tricks and I have finally committed with my friend Terri to run a half-marathon next October. At 41, taking on new tricks involves some pretty serious training. The last thing I want is to be side-tracked in my busy days because of injuries. And one of the books I am using, Marathoning for Mortals, highly recommends cross-training vs. running every day. In the past, all I have done is run, run, run and my legs get sore, I get bored, and inevitably, my back or hip gives out (from being hit by a car while I was running – a whole other story about needing to learn new tricks!).

So, I have started riding my bike for one of my weekly workouts. And, I love it! I feel like a kid (er, puppy!) again as I pedal around the neighborhood, speeding down hills with the wind on my face and remembering the pure joy and freedom riding a bike can bring. I’m exploring new roads and trying on a new way to be healthy and strong.

Running has always been my quick fix but I’m learning that maybe it’s not the only way. I’m open to the possibility, that maybe – just maybe, there is more than one way to be my most fit and healthy self.

Riding a bike is an old trick for a middle-aged dog but it feels new. And sometimes just feeling new is all we need. So, to whatever makes you feel new again, bark up that tree. Find your inner-puppy and run (or roll) with it!

Inspired by Simplicity

I learned the five most important words in the English language today: “I am proud of you.” And, the four most important words: “Can I help you?” The three most important: “I love you.” The two most important: “Thank you.” And, the single most important word in the English language . . . “we”. The first four are pretty self-explanatory, the last is the idea of what “we” represents - that we can do anything together as a “we” versus an “I” or as an individual.

I heard all of this from an eighty-six year old gentleman named Jimmy Gentry. A World War II veteran, he shared his many lessons and his story of coming full circle in his long life. With an unbelievable memory (dates, weather, images), he told of his experiences as a foot soldier in World War II, of his humble childhood – one of nine children, and the indelible impact his parents had on him (his father died when he was 12 years old and his mother was left to raise he and his siblings single-handedly).

As Memorial Day approaches and we got lost in the anticipation of a three-day week-end and the kick-off to our summer seasons, Mr. Gentry’s vivid descriptions of his experiences in World War II make me think a little harder and appreciate a lot more what those in the military endure to ensure our safety and freedom. Never one to consider myself strongly patriotic, I, like so many others, have taken my freedom and rights for granted. Mr. Gentry awakened in me a deep sense of appreciation and humility as well as a deepened sense of the responsibilities that come with our many rights.

But to keep it simple, it seems if we only begin with those “most important words in the English language”, we might really have something. Simple truths for sure but they provide a powerful foundation from which we can build a stronger, more united citizenry – one built on pride, care and concern, love, appreciation, and a spirit of togetherness.

Thank you, Mr. Gentry, for all that you have given to so many. You are truly an inspiration to all whose lives you touch.

(To learn more about Mr. Gentry and his story, you can visit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbBygLCsm1g. He also has written a book, An American Adventure: The Living Legacy of Jimmy Gentry available at http://franklinsprings.com/allfilms/an-american-adventure.html/ )

Any Good Gardener

It’s been over a week since I wrote about my dear, sweet grandfather and life just sky rockets along. Spring bounds in and there seems to be too much to do and not enough time to complete all the projects on my to-do list. Since I turned in my final grades for my class at Vanderbilt last Wednesday, I have spent hours weeding, edging, mulching, and planting in our yard. Frustratingly enough, new weeds are already growing in one of the beds I cleared last week. And between you and me, weeding is not my favorite thing - a thankless sort of task. Because most of the time, no one even notices. But since weeding is the necessary preparation for the good part – the showy mulch, bright flowers, and clean edging – it must be done. Such is life.

We lay a solid foundation for any good thing, and find, what we build on top of it can stand tall and strong (think healthy eating, a vibrant marriage, effective parenting, a class, exercising, a bountiful garden . . .). I learn – over and over again – that there is very little in life that wouldn’t be made better through thoughtful preparation.

And the weeds, well they are everywhere (in our yards, our relationships, our eating) and if we look closely enough, we can sometimes find a reason for their clinging tenacity. Like any obstacle, they are there to illuminate something. And whether your weeds are literal or figurative, like any good gardener, the wisdom lies in knowing what weeds just need to be uprooted on the spot and which troublesome ones’ deep roots keep hanging on to either drive you absolutely crazy or open you up to greater introspection.

Ironically, I’m not choosing either today. Because the real trick to weeding our way through life is the ability to balance our thoughtful preparation and planning with a spirit of spontaneity and living in the moment. Today, I have five whole kid-free hours in which I could be a whirling dervish in our ever-beckoning yard. But my mom has offered to treat me to a facial (thank you mom!) and one of my very best friends (whom I see way too infrequently) called to see if I was free for lunch. Free? Heck yes, I’m free! Because there are times when we just have to say, “Weeds be damned!” as we focus on that foundation for self-care . . . an area where I’ve definitely got some flowers to pick and some seeds to sow. So today – YES today – I’m heading out and am SO looking forward to it.

I invite you to ask yourself, “Where are your weeds that just need to be pulled and where are there lessons hiding under that bright, egg-yolk yellow splash of dandelion?" Then, either get gardening, or call a friend and make some plans. Either way, you’ll be feeding your soul exactly what it needs.

Being Without

Over a year ago, I stopped writing and contributing to my blog – Moments of Grace. I could say I was too busy, too stressed, too tired but the truth of the matter is, I did not make my writing a priority. And in doing that, I robbed myself and others of my gifts. Simple though they may be, my words, ideas, and thoughts are what I have to share. And in not sharing, I have felt closed off and disconnected.

Coming back to where I started – and where I left off – has been in large part due to the passing of my grandfather, Gerry James Mundy, Sr. My Grampa would have been 89 this week and he and my grandmother were married 68 (!) years. They had eight children, nineteen grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren (and more on the way!). What an indelible mark his passing leaves on so many who loved him.


Not surprisingly, his passing woke me up, once again, to what is most important for me in this life. Family and friends, love, kindness, connection. Finding meaning in our human experiences and shaping how we want to be remembered for our time here on Earth.

This morning I went through all the e.mails my grandfather had sent me over the past ten years. And he was quite an e.mailer – not afraid to forward any ole e.mail he found amusing or interesting, he often filled up our inboxes with information we didn’t want or need. Nevertheless, there was always his commentary along with the message – and that usually had some invaluable nugget of wisdom or humor. Almost always worth the price of a full inbox.

One of the e.mails I ran across was after my Grandma and Grampa had come to visit us one summer at Higgins Lake. The next week he wrote the following to me:

“Really loved being with you and that ‘lil big guy on our visit. We wish you lived just around the corner so that we were afforded the opportunity to watch Taggart develop. This business of seeing him (and you, too, of course) at such long intervals robs us of so much. That's why a visit such as we enjoyed last week is so very special. I still smile when I think of Taggart walking by and saying, straight out of the blue, ‘like your ring, Grampa’. It's a truism that we don't really appreciate fully all of the blessings we have. It takes being without them for an extended period of time to get our sense of value re-focused."

Well, being without my grandfather has truly brought my focus back to the many blessings within my life. I am ever-thankful for his and my grandmother’s presence and dedication to my growth and good. Two of the most loving, kind, generous people, they have helped shape me and have left their imprint on my soul. I owe so much of who I am to them and I will uphold and share their values and virtues.

Like them, I will share what I have been given and pass on what I have learned and gleaned in my life thus far. Being without my writing – as one of my blessings – has been stifling and lonesome. A part of myself hidden in armor of my own donning, my soul couldn’t breathe in such tight quarters. So, free like my grandfather, I am writing again – to honor his memory and to most fully be me. My soul is catching its breath. I am putting myself out there once more.

And in this capacity, being without has served me well.