Author: Lisa Gurry

Tonight my heart is with the helpers.

A few hours ago Seattle’s governor declared a “shelter-in-place” order, essentially ordering pretty much everyone to stay at home to stop the spread of the Coronavirus.

Pretty much everyone except the helpers. You may have heard of the helpers. It’s a classic Mr. Rogers (from the old school Neighborhood) quote.

I am so overwhelmed with gratitude for the helpers. The doctors and nurses and cafeteria staff and janitorial services at our hospitals who are doing their very best to save lives. The policemen, firemen and paramedics who are valiantly trying to keep us safe. The grocery store workers, pharmacists and delivery drivers who are helping us have food, medicine, and other necessities. The infrastructure providers, who provide electricity, plumbing, broadband services and more. What could seem like luxuries are critical for powering our hospitals, supply chain and other fundamental services that are keeping us all operating largely, as normal. Except for the whole isolation thing.

All of these helpers don’t have the luxury of working from home. They can’t say the risk is too great – no thanks. Many of them don’t even have the recommended protective gear, whether masks, gloves, antibacterial cleaners and other materials that are in short supply. They are showing up for us and keeping our world moving. Saving lives. And not just the lives of those infected with the virus. But all of us. Without the helpers, in short order, we would have total chaos. Crime and looting. Significant medical challenges due to lack of medication. Starvation. So many tragedies being held at arms length it makes my head spin.

Tonight I made a two week supply trip to the grocery store. We are hunkering down. It is so bizarre to see regular people wearing masks and gloves while shopping for their eggs. There is a mild sense of panic – with empty aisles, long lines, and everyone wanting to get the heck out of there as soon as possible.

Except for the helpers. They are working their shift. Providing food. In fact, working extra hard to keep up with the shoppers and their long lists.

My heart goes out to the helpers. At this time, I wish I could do so much for each of them.

We’re trying to do good things for the world right now because the world needs lots of help. From donating supplies to our local Ronald McDonald house, to donating to food banks, to continuing to support the people who provide a service to our family – regardless of whether they work. At work I got to make a behind-the-scenes difference for over 2500 retail employees. This made me so happy.

But it could never be enough. Because the need will be great. And it is so very easy to get completely overwhelmed. For tonight, I’m going to say a prayer of gratitude for the helpers. For their safety. For their health. And that they each feel the gratitude they deserve.

I had written this blog many times in my head over the last few months and just now, I sit down to put pen to paper. Or keys to keyboard. Or something.

Every year I like the idea of choosing a mantra, or collection of words, to serve as an inspiration through-out the year.

This year, as I pondered my catchphrase for 2020 (uh…yes…I realize it is March:), the answer became obvious. I actually chose the phrase in January. The inspiration was clear – my dear friend that passed away at the end of 2019 had posted her last post to Facebook with this simple image:

So choosing joy it is. This is a mantra I can get behind. I do believe that in life, we all have the opportunity and truthfully, the responsibility, to create a life we can love. This can look many different ways for different people.

But for me, I have learned a lot over the years about what makes me happy. So this year I kicked off with a renewed commitment to plan for a year that would choose joy each day.

Surrounding myself with people I love is an easy one. Planning adventures, recharge time, and memory making moments. Committing to work on some relationships that need work. I planned out college visits for my daughter. Planned a spring break adventure in Costa Rica for my family. Planned a once-in-a-lifetime trip to London for my original family – my parents and my sisters. Actually took a romantic get-away to Mexico with my husband in February. Planned an adventure hiking the Grand Canyon with my husband and dear friends. 2020 was going to be epic!

I also embraced a revitalized work chapter. Building a new team. Taking on new responsibility. Stepping up to some new challenges. Creating new relationships. I know I’m growing when I feel I’m in over my head. In a really good way. Time to take some risks, learn some new things, and push myself professionally.

And, with certainty, let’s keep learning. Purchased inspiring books. Found new podcasts to enjoy during my commute. Committed to girl time with women I love as friends who also have professional lives they lead with passion.

One of my great disappointments of 2019 was not hitting a few athletic goals. It honestly doesn’t matter to the universe. But I’ve enjoyed setting and hitting a few goals athletically the last few years. A bum leg sidelined my training unfortunately. I barely got in shape for a marathon but (smartly) dropped out at the half way point when I could no longer run without a limp. I had hoped this would be my redemption run. Even though I had technically qualified for the Boston Marathon last year, I missed a spot in the race by 20 seconds because too many others ran faster. Heartbreak. 20 seconds! And then I didn’t even finish my redemption run. So in 2020 I pledged to rightfully earn my spot.

These are just a few of the ways I committed to choosing joy in 2020. New adventures. Pushing myself to grow. Surrounding myself with people that bring me joy. Working to drop the unhealthy pressure or expectations we can all place on ourselves that hold us back in life.

And then the Coronavirus hit. What started as a whisper news story from China has completely taken over our lives in a few short months. We are now largely quarantined with just our immediate family. Trips are cancelled. We are working and learning from home. The world is small with social distancing our new normal. No races on the horizon. Controlling anxiety and panic are a real goal.

Choosing joy takes on all new meaning. I’m not sure what 2020 will end up like. But I know choosing joy became much more difficult than I could have ever imagined. Now I must look inward for joy – rather than relying on grand vacations, big adventures, or big memories with family and friends.

Today choosing joy looks like reading a great book. Playing a board game with my son. Coloring with my daughter. Eating a great meal with my family. Laughing over old memories. Good tunes. Going for a long run in the crisp, clean air – just because. Enjoying a moment of peace and quiet amidst competing screens.

This is what choosing joy looks like right now. The one thing I am reveling in is how much we will all change through this experience. Or how much we should all change.

I hope I never again take for granted sending my kids to school for their education. Inviting friends and family into our home – whenever we want. Having the opportunity to fly off to new adventures or my hometown. The certainty of health. Carefully choosing fresh fruit or flowers at the grocery store. Browsing neighborhood shops just because. Enjoying dinner out at a yummy restaurant. Meeting with co-workers face-to-face. Gathering with friends for book club, parties, get-aways, or for no reason. The community of a work-out class.

2020 is so different than expected. Choosing joy has taken on all new dimensions. But the beauty of a mantra is that it brings you back to center, encourages you to focus on turning the mantra into truth, and living it each day.

So here’s to choosing joy – in whatever form we can – everyday.

Umm…..happy new year?

It’s a new decade and while it may be March, I’m ready to revisit my old blog friend.

I feel inspired this morning and though it’s been awhile, here I am.

When I last wrote, I was making bold proclamations about writing daily, spending time on myself amidst the crazy of December, and other such nonsense. At times I love my optimism. At other times, I must admit – I cannot do it all.

December became one of those times. You know how it goes. You are hustling just to keep up in your normal life and then you toss in decorating, gift buying, special eventing, hosting, and so much more…and….forget it.

One day in yoga class I was wracking my brain about what to write about so I could keep up with my daily goal. Rather than being present. Then the teacher started talking about allowing grace with yourself. Grace from the expectations, the pressure, the I must do it all mentality.

Ok.

Grace allowed. So I simplified. Allowed grace. Removed pressure. This whole writing thing – at this point – is supposed to be fun and a stress reliever. Not another obligation.

So grace over the holidays turned into an extended break. Life has been ever-so-busy. The biggest change is the continued evolution of my new job which has taken a lot of mental horsepower. But not necessarily creative horsepower.

So this morning I’m aching just to write. For fun.

A lot has happened in the world. The coronoavirus is in full-fledged outbreak and Seattle is the epicenter of the US. It is freaky and scary and downright inconvenient. For the first time ever, my employer (along with a lot of the city) has us working from home.

So it seems a reasonable time to try to prioritize my new morning routine (i.e. no commute) to write – for me – instead. We’ll see how this goes. No more sweeping proclamations!

Instead, I’m allowing grace. In work, in life, in….me.

Tonight I write with a heavy heart. Why does it seem like it takes a tragedy to really pause and realize how truly fragile life is?

One of my best friends that I grew up with is fighting for her life as we speak. She is standing next to me below at our high school graduation.

Back in my home state of Missouri, doctors are trying to force her heart to do its job amidst massive organ failure. The prognosis is bleak.

So, helplessly, I sit to write from afar while I watch the Facebook thread build and build with updates and prayers.

Sadly, I haven’t spoken to this friend in two years, since our last high school reunion. She is standing next to me in the black shirt.

But she was one of my very best childhood friends from my earliest memories through eighth grade. We literally grew up together. Played on the monkey bars and ran around the playground together. She is second from the left.

Had our first sleepovers and spent hours and hours at each other’s homes. Cheered for each other on softball, basketball, volleyball and track teams. And as literal cheerleaders. Shared our first crushes and first kiss stories.

She was effortlessly cool, hilariously funny, and oh so much fun.

As life went by, we grew apart, but I treasure those early special years. When life can be scary but was actually ever-so-simple. When George Michael’s Faith was scandalous because his butt was the album cover. When a great night was girlfriends and Doritos. Before we had really seen heartbreak.

She was brave and adventurous. A contrast to my follow-the-rules persona. I was the bold talker, but she was the behind-the-scenes fun maker. She was the first to love disgusting horror movies. As I covered my eyes, she would laugh in delight. She could rock the local roller rink.

She was one of the first to have a boyfriend. And no wonder. She was beautiful. With awesomely curly hair, naturally straight teeth, perfect eyes, and a lovely figure. She never went through the awkward phase that haunted some of us (ahem…me – see above photo with disastrous perm and braces). And she was smart, funny, and fun to be around.

We went to the same high school and had some good times together, but we were no longer inseparable, as happens. But I’ve always loved her. And while I haven’t lived in my hometown for over 20 years, the few times I have seen her at various reunions, she is the friend you pick right up with from where you left off. This was one of those reunions in 2009.

I am so sad I may not get to tell her these memories. And how much she has meant to me over the years.

And I’m so reminded of how precious life is. Truly. Each day. Each moment. I’m reminded that I must make the most of it. Because it is such a gift.

Tonight I’m going to hug my family a lot more closely. Keep sending prayers and waiting for updates. Cherish my memories of my friend. And hope for a miracle so I can tell her.

Update….it is now December 23 and despite a community praying and rallying for her, my sweet friend passed away last night. I find it so very hard to believe, how someone so full of life can simply be gone. She leaves four sons, a large family and a community that loved her. I will regret forever that I didn’t have the chance to really reminisce together and really know the more recent details of her life.

Time, space and responsibilities can make it hard to keep up with others, but my great lesson in losing her is to reach out to those I love. Have real conversations. Make memories together. Never wonder if they know – really know – how meaningful they have been to you. Life is short. Sometimes, far, far too unexpectedly short.

I wrap up today with deep gratitude. Most days I know at my core how fortunate I am. But it is all too easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle and not pause – even for a minute – and feel truly grateful.

This is my minute.

I didn’t know today would wrap up this way. I woke up with a headache from not enough sleep and perhaps an extra glass of wine than was helpful from my book club party last night. Totally worth it. Because it was so much fun!

But it led to a groggy morning.

I had a productive work day, but nothing notable.

And then I went into mom mode. Somehow, today was one of those magical days. When I am reminded that even though being a mom isn’t easy at times, it is the most meaningful part of my life.

Each of my three kids had something worth celebrating today. It was different for each of them. One rocked a field trip at school. One finally received the perfect smile she has been waiting for after 5 years of orthodontia (including nearly four years in braces AND a year of Invisalign. Long story). And one played the first game of the sport he loves on his high school.

While there may be bigger accomplishments in the world, today each of my kids was blissfully happy. In their own way, they accomplished something meaningful. Special. And worth smiling about.

There really is no better day. In these moments, you absolutely must pause. Soak in it. Remember the joy that comes from being a parent. Hug each child extra tight. And hope they know – at their core – how amazingly special they are. Luckily it’s not possible for a heart to burst with love. Or surely, mine would.

Today’s blog is short and sweet. It was a full day – it started at 6am with a personal training session (shout out for investing my time and energy and prioritizing health!), followed by a full day of work. Followed by making homemade mac and cheese for the freshman football banquet, which I attended in honor of my son. And, the awesome capper to the day was the annual gift exchange/wine fest at my book club. So I write this daily blog at 11:30pm. After a few glasses of wine. Bear with me.

We actually didn’t discuss the book at all. But we did have a lovely evening.

However, the moment that touched me came earlier in the night at Safeway. I had stopped on my way home for work for the mac and cheese supplies. I was distracted. I gathered the supplies quickly, calculating in my head how much time I had to spare to make homemade mac and cheese, pick up carpool and make the banquet on time. As I was waiting in the check out line, I was simultaneously checking my work email, responding to a carpool text thread, texting my daughter, and sending my son some money via Venmo. Seriously.

I barely looked at the lady checking me out, gathered my groceries and hustled to my car. My mind six steps ahead.

And promptly realized I forgot a supply. So I hustled back into the store, gathered my item, and got back in line. And then I felt terrible. I didn’t even really look at the woman who checked me out just a few minutes ago. Barely gave her a smile. Muttered a thank you.

Is that how I want to show up in the world? Definitively no.

But, due to my mental load and absent mindedness, I had another shot. James was my checker for round two. He looked stressed and tired. Just like me.

I put my phone in my purse. Gave James a big smile and asked him how his day was going. I made small talk. Made a little joke. Made eye contact. And wished him a great night.

Because everyone in the world deserves to feel present. The work he does matters. And probably isn’t super joyful at times. But I can bring a little bit of joy to the world. One little smile, one little joke, one little moment at a time.

Tonight I’m speed-reading a book I chose for tomorrow’s book club. Reese Witherspoon actually chose it first for her book club and I saw several other authors I like discussing it. The book is called “Fair Play” by Eve Rodsky. The subtitle of the book is “A Game-Changing Solution for When you Have Too Much to Do (and More Life to Live)”.

Ok! I want more life to live!

Eve’s premise is that each human on earth deserves to live their best, most authentic life. Each of us should have the time to develop the skills and passions that keep us interested and interesting. Right??

Particularly once we become parents, but in any co-habiting relationship, we risk becoming out of balance. And we lose who we are, or who we can become.

Sound familiar? Uh….yes.

The premise of the book is a system that offers couples a new way to divvy up domestic responsibilities. Truthfully, I can’t see the system working in my house and I didn’t love parts of the book.

But I did love the parts of it that made me think about the hidden costs of mom-ing and ideas for balancing. Or at least, it reinforces that yes! holy cow I do a lot around here!

At the beginning of the book she articulates why women in particular struggle with being so busy. I say this cautiously – because many men, including my husband, contribute a lot to make a household run.

But there were a few key areas sociologists claim women disproportionately have to manage.

The first is Mental Load. The “never-ending mental to-do list you keep for all your family tasks.” It creates stress, fatigue and often forgetfulness. This is why I can’t turn my brain off at night and lose my car in parking garages.

The second is the Second Shift – the domestic work you do long before you go to work and often even longer after you get home. This is why I could never lay on the couch and take a nap while the house is a mess or there is laundry to do. I often wish I could, but…impossible.

Then there is Emotional Labor. It’s the “managing relationships” part of the job. It’s being the consoler of tears, the giver of advice, the one who notices when kids have had a bad day. It’s deeply feeling the stress of health or emotional or social concerns. It is exhausting. Deeply meaningful at times, yes, but emotionally hard.

And last but not least, there is Invisible Labor. It’s the behind-the-scenes stuff that keeps a home and family running smoothly. Hardly noticed and rarely valued. This is the we have snacks to eat, dental appointments scheduled, carpools sorted, and holiday gifts purchased line item. Yep.

There is more, of course, but these items resonated with me as I made yet another to-do list this morning. I was able to work from home today, which I love, and in lieu of my commute, I tried to get on top of our life. This is a never-ending job and today, looked something like this. I didn’t nail it. I made some progress, but this list is evil, because it never gets done. Here was my Mental Load for today:

If not careful, this washing machine of activity can make it easy to lose ourselves in the chaos. This isn’t to say I don’t love being a mom – I love my kids so much – but it is interesting to recognize similarities that sociologists, scientists and psychologists have empirically proven.

Consider this:

• The pay gap between mothers and non-mothers is wider than the pay gap between men and women. What?? We never hear about this. Essentially, those of us who work took an economic risk by becoming parents.
• There is a legit “mommy tax” that decreases a mother’s earning power by 5-10% for every child she brings into the world due to missed opportunities, prestigious assignments, pay increases and bonuses.
• 43% of highly qualified women with children take a career detour – often unexpected. Not necessarily because they have always wanted to be a fully present parent, but sometimes because they are drowning in the demands and difficulty of combining work and parenting.
• Women are twice as likely to be affected by anxiety disorders as men because we are so desperate to do it all.

As Amy Westervelt is quoted in the book, ” We expect women to work like they don’t have children and raise children as if they don’t work.”

Ring a bell? I know it does for my female colleagues at work. Particularly those in dual-income families or single parents.

And, for my friends that work fully in the home, I know this will likely resonate too. The pressure they carry is significant for often unsung, underappreciated and never-ending work.

That isn’t to say that most of us would change anything. Even with this dynamic, no one I know wants to give up their kids and our families are our top priority. But understanding the realness of the impact of the mental load, second shift, emotional labor, and invisible labor is valuable – for women and men. Not only for how we can improve our lives today, but how do we evolve a society, a culture, and a workforce to reduce the pressure? And how can our girls expect more for their future? I want my daughter to know that she can have a career. And be a great mom. And not have to do it all perfectly. But still be near-perfectly happy.

I like a book that makes me think. I like a book club book that will drive good discussion. Fair Play delivers, even if the proposed solution may not work for me.

Well, here we are on day two of my newfound commitment and if you were waiting for a profound blog, you will likely be disappointed.

Today’s blog is in celebration of getting it done and making it happen. With a little flair and style.

It’s not easy to prioritize “me time”. As I type, my husband is waiting to hang out. Following a night of parenting, holiday card designing and purchasing, dog walking and more. I’m literally looking at the dishwasher that just completed its wash cycle and needs to be unloaded so the dinner dishes can be loaded.

But friends…here I am! Because “me time” matters and I’m not falling off the wagon on day two.

But I digress. I knew today would be nuts. The kind of nuts that happens when you travel on a whirlwind work trip last Monday and Tuesday, work a few hours on Wednesday, and then check out to enjoy the long holiday week-end with your family. A lovely option, of course. And I’m grateful for it.

But man oh man do you return to an avalanche of email. And meetings. And work that needed to be completed asap. Last week. I knew this would be my day today.

And I slept in. My youngest daughter, the aforementioned early riser, is our alarm clock. Consistently. Once in a blue moon she sleeps in. Today was the day. Until 7:15am. When I awoke with a start. My oldest daughter needed to hustle to school. Youngest daughter needed to get ready for school. And son eventually needed to find his carpool today. It was a crazy morning before I’d been awake 20 minutes.

And I knew what I would return to in the office. So I did what I always do when the day seems daunting.

I chose something to wear that would make me happy. Today it was python print boots. Now, you may not own a pair of python boots. They are a very fashion forward print this fall. Some fashion magazines have gone so far as to call them this fall’s neutral. And I am a sucker for a fashion trend. And I’m fortunate to work in a workplace where pretty much anything goes.

So today I rocked my new python boots. They gave me a little spring in my step. They made me feel a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. And they made me smile.

A good reminder that even when your days are hectic, you should surround yourself with something that makes you smile. Python boots aren’t for everyone, but we all have something. Embrace yours and smile.

I’ll also report on my other 31 day commitment. Work-out day #2 was a 30 minute Peloton bike work-out – interval training plus arms. I love an efficient work-out and this is a great one. Also not easy to fit in – I squeezed it in after I got home from work and before dinner. Not my favorite way to get it done, but it got done!

Well hello there poor neglected blog.

I looked up, and somehow, it is December 1!

The last months have been full of activity – some fun and energizing – some not so much. And the real only reason I haven’t written is because I simply didn’t feel like it.

Of course there were a few blogs I wrote in my head, but didn’t sit down to commit to paper. Or blog. Whatever.

But now I’m back! I’m excited it is December 1st. Maybe because there is a shorter Christmas season than usual this year, but I’m committing to make the absolute most of December. Not just for the holidays. But for life. In general.

So what have I been doing? Here is where my focus has been the past few months:

• I started a new job at Microsoft in July and it really ramped up in August and over the last months. Any new job is a great opportunity for growth and learning. The cost is extra effort to build new networks and relationships, learn new group norms, understand priorities, assess how to maximize resources, and of course, make a great first impression. I have been hustling the past few months, but in a really good way. I love being energized by my job and I’ve met some great new people. I’m also learning a ton, which is a big bonus.
• We had a major life moment this year as my son entered high school, joining his older sister, and my youngest started middle school. Because she has extensive special needs, this was nerve-wracking and required a lot of time and energy to help her settle into her new environment and for her new team to get to know her. Everything has gone far better than we had hoped, so I’m grateful to be in a groove on the school front. A wise friend once told me you are only as happy as your most unhappy kid – I believe this is true. So far this year, I’m grateful for happy kids.
• We bought a mountain house! We had looked at the neighboring community of Suncadia, about 90 minutes from Seattle, for years and rented homes there for family vacations. On the classic “we’re just going to look” trip, we bought the third house we saw. My husband did not want the hassle of new construction and wanted a turn-key house fully furnished, so of course, we bought a new construction home completely empty. Because we want to host the holidays, I spent hours and hours completely furnishing a new home – down to every utensil, towel, bed and pillows – 30 pillows, to be exact. It was fun and creatively fulfilling, but on the heels of our massive remodel last year – an unexpected amount of work.
• I ran a half marathon in October. It was meant to be a full marathon in Portland. I had done the full training leg for the full – fighting little injuries the entire time – but I was ready to go until my last 20 miler. I irritated my IT band and hamstring leading to three weeks of solid physical therapy, deep tissue massage, acupuncture and more. Unfortunately, I had to pull the plug at the half-way mark. I had promised myself once I started limping for longer than half a mile, I would be done. So I was. It was disappointing. I hate not accomplishing a goal. While my training had been interrupted, I had committed to finishing – strong, not perfect.
• Oh, and, I can’t believe I forgot this one. I literally had the next few paragraphs written and now adding this one. My youngest went through a disruption in sleep pattern which lasted about six weeks. It was awful. She is twelve now, but started waking up every day between 4-5am. Because of her special needs, one of us needs to get up with her. Now, I am not a natural morning person on a good day and it’s been years since I saw those hours consistently (back to the infant days). It was brutal. My husband and I took turns getting up with her, so not every day was early, but it was super disruptive and exhausting. I am so grateful for a good night’s sleep. If anything killed my creative energy, it was pure exhaustion.

Add in our crazy, normal life, and I just didn’t sit down to write. But I have missed it.

This morning during hot yoga (when I was supposed to be concentrating), my mind wandered as it almost always does.

I realized I want this December to be more than making memories for my family, hosting, celebrating, and keeping our life moving. I want to slow down. Enjoy. And take time for myself. So here is my crazy commitment – each day this month I’m going to do two things I love. Work out and Write. The work out part is tricky because my leg is still hurt and I can’t run, which means I’m going to need to be creative doing work-outs I don’t love as much. The writing part is tricky as inevitably things will get nutty and I won’t have any motivation or energy.

But I’m committing. It’s a fun little experiment. Making time for me and embracing that work-outs can come in many forms and not all writing needs to be amazing to still be fulfilling.

It won’t be easy. As I write this, trying to relax with a hot cup of coffee and my favorite Spotify playlist playing, I have 13 other things I need to do to complete my mom-ing this week-end. Including gathering the troops to decorate the Christmas tree we chose today at the Christmas tree lot.

But I’m trying. I stole away, created a moment for myself, and here we are – first blog of the month complete.

Here’s to December 1st – I think I’m going to love this month.

Recently I heard the best parenting, and life advice, I’ve heard in some time. Perhaps ever.

A bold statement, I realize.

Of course, it came from the Nobel and Pulitzer Prize winning novelist Toni Morrison. So it is worthy of bold.

The brilliant Ms. Morrison sadly passed away recently after a lifetime of prolific writing. I have always been a fan. And with her passing, I was inspired by her incredible wisdom when I was reminded of this guidance:

It made me wonder, in my life, with the people and things that matter to me, do my eyes light up?

When we first see our children walk into a room, do our eyes light up? Or do we critique their outfit of choice, question if they’ve accomplished certain tasks, or reprimand them for leaving their cereal bowl on the counter (yet again)?

When we see our husband/wife/partner at the end of the work day, do our eyes light up? Or do we quickly focus on to-do’s, lists and obligations? Do our eyes light up for each other or do we focus first on our kids and other responsibilities (beloved, as they may be)?

When we enter a conference room at work and see our colleagues, do our eyes light up? With passion, creativity, and potential? With curiosity for how they are as humans first, and then co-workers? Or do we dive into the task at hand?

When we see our friends, do our eyes light up? Do we take time to really listen to how they are doing? Making sure they know how much we care about them? Do we have real, authentic conversations? Or do we move on to the simple platitudes (“Everything’s great!” “We’re so busy!”, etc) or Facebook highlight reel that can guide our conversations if not careful?

You can see the thematic here. How do we take time in life to pause, focus, and allow our eyes to light up? Wherever we are, whoever we’re with.

And here’s why it matters.

In this same stanza, Morrison guides that we should let our eyes light up so our face says what is in our heart. Not guided by judgement, efficiency, or productivity. But a connection with the people that matter to us, and an expression of love for those who matter the most.

I love this reminder. I’m using it to guide how I greet people in my life. Letting my eyes light up.