I’ve been thinking about these delights quite a lot lately.

What qualifies as a delight? There are quick shots of delight- they dance on your tongue like dark chocolate.

And then there are delights that brew in your head. They are not immediate- it is not instant. Perhaps a process that sooner or later it becomes a delight- a little more lasting a little more precious- laced with complexity and life.

My latest delight is around a conversation, albeit born out of intense pain, it is a quiet, coveted delight. I can delight in this honesty and our ability as a family to touch something that at times seemed untouchable.

Last week I sat with my dad and my Hubs. We stopped in for lunch after skiing. Conversations evolved from small talk to tough talk.

My dad has a dear friend that just lost a grandson in a horrible accident. Our collective heart aches for them.

“How is Mr. B?” I asked

“Well, you know. Not good? Okay? Sad? Hanging in there? It’s heartbreaking knowing the hard days ahead for him and his family. I want to tell him just to hang on. It can be really awful for a while and I just don’t know how to say it.”

“I always think of the Sara McLaughan song…..hold on, hold on to yourself, cause this is gonna hurt like hell…”

I grabbed a napkin and held it to my eyes, “it still makes me cry.”

I blew my nose and we all took a long drink of our Mary Jane ale. And watched the Olympics. Because you know, when you don’t know what to say……sports…and beer.

And then I broke the silence.

Because ugh……silence.

“But you should tell him something Dad. Seriously. You should tell him that he is going to be okay. That his family is going to be okay. That sometimes is feels like you never, ever will. But you need to tell him that you trust, you know that Mr. B is going to be okay. You telling him that you know he can survive this, that trust when it seems like the whole world is doubting…..that trust is everything.”

“I know….I know.”

“Trust is good, Hubs interjected, “A stiff upper lip can be good too.”

I grabbed Hubs’ hand and squeezed it, “And sometimes you have to tell yourself that we all grieve in different times, in different spaces and in different ways. And the only thing you can do is honor everyone’s process,” I bit Hubs’ finger in thought and angst. “Please tell him you know. You know, he will be okay.”

We watched the Super G. People missed gates, missed times, racers fell and for some, the race, the dream they had been planning for a lifetime was shattered.

It was nothing compared to the shatter we just discussed.

But somehow, we all get up. Maybe we get up because someone on the side tells us they know we can. Maybe it’s just our shear will and moxie. But we do it. And it hurts like hell.

And years later we sit around a pitcher of Mary Jane Ale and chicken nachos, dab teary eyes with rough napkins, knowing that we survived. Is it delightful? No, it’s not. But it is peppered with delight, gratitude, moxie and survival. I’ll take that spicy blend any day.

And to Mr. B and family. We see you you. We grieve your enormous loss. Trust in this shitty process. We have nachos and beer when you are ready.

My niece has her Physicians Assistant White Coat ceremony this weekend.

It’s not only fun to be proud of her, it’s fun to see her so happy and excited about this next step.

We had our first celebratory meal in a bougie restaurant where we ate truffle fries and drank champagne on Restoration Hardware couches.

And like any meal with truffle fries and champagne, afterwards we found ourselves taking selfie’s in the ladies bathroom. I know- it sounds odd but it was a bonding moment.

Go eat the world beautiful niece.

SOCKS!

Today was chilly.

I needed some good socks.

I invested in good socks this winter. This has been a good investment. I was never a sock person. I am a sock person now.

Good socks are delightful.

I pulled out a stripped pair of socks this morning and delighted in the fact that not only are they stripped and lovely and warm…..but these socks have a fox.

We kinda love Dr. Seuss around here.

I took my amazing socks out of the drawer, and they have been sassy companion to my feet all day. Delightful.

The great thing about delights is that there is no rhyme or reason behind why something brings you joy. A delight is a gift- you just need to notice.

Not only are these awesome socks but they are darn tough…. yes I know, I am a sucker for branding but putting these darn tough socks on my feet, looking at my tootsies and deciding I was also going to be darn tough today and well, that was a delight too.

PS- I am not paid by darn tough socks to put them on my feet but I do find them lovely and delightful. Go be darn tough my fearless friends. You got this- you’re crazy…..like a fox.

I meant to post this yesterday in honor of the great Martin Luther King Jr.

I thought about this post all day- and then I laid down on the couch and took a nap.

My napping really kind of leads to this post.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.- my goodness what a man. What a leader. What a poet. What a speaker. What a mover of people. What a feeler of feels……What an extraordinary human.

On social media, there was a call to post a favorite MLK quote. Earlier in the day, I had found this gem and made it my own…..

“If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way.”

In the amazing prose of MLK, this quote is not extraordinary. It does not speak to never losing hope, finding the stars in the darkness or loving my enemy.

But it does speak to what I can do today. And what I can do tomorrow.

I can strive to do small things in a great way. And maybe those small things become great.

Or maybe not.

But its what I can do.

Doing is delightful.

Happy MLK day.

OH…..YOU!!!

You are the best. Honestly the very best. I think you may have broke Facebook because I can’t find all the thoughtful posts from my birthday. If I have not thanked you, I cannot get to the post.

But thank you. Really- tonight I am a giddy, overstimulated, tired, 51 year old swimming in birthday love. Your friendship is a delight.

Today was spent with Hubs doing one of the things we love the most- we skied a bluebird day in Colorado. Friends joined us, toasts were made, skies were clear, snow was great………

On the 51% of a century, I have many thoughts about today, you precious people. and the beauty of this life. But tonight I baste in birthday love like a big ol’ turkey. You all are the best. I delight in you.

I spent my birthday eve with this amazing human- the woman who was kind enough to bring me into this world, my Mama.

Driving home this evening, I turned to my husband, “I’m a pretty lucky person,” I said.

And I don’t say that to be flippant, or trite, I know darn well how lucky I am to have this person in my life. This person who insists that at 51, my birthday still be super special.

And it was:

And now I am tired and off to bed. My belly is full of lobster, champagne and cake. My heart and head are full of gratitude and delight.

May we all be loved.

That’s all- you beautiful humans. Have a delightful Friday.

I have a fickle relationship with exercise.

I say that knowing I have a super-tolerant body. It’s not a bikini body by any means but I know my quads are strong. I trust that my heart will pound in protest but still get me up Vail pass. My knees? Well, they were good while they lasted.

I am also not a committed athlete….and I use the word athlete loosely. During marathon training, I found a glazed donut to be the perfect combination of carbs and fat.

Protien shake? Heck no! Jelly donut? Bring it.

I am the non-conforming worker-outer.

But I do know, I am better when I sweat. My head is clear when my heart beats fast.

As I get older, I appreciate this flawed, unperfect body even more.

And I as I get older, I realize, this body is getting older too.

Eight weeks ago I tore my bicep muscle. It was a dumb move. I was reaching for something on a shelf, slipped on a wood floor and grabbed the upper shelf with my right arm.

Holy MAMA. It hurt. And bruised. I could move my arm so knew it was a partial tear but I also knew it needed rest. Swimming was out for a while. It turned purple and ached at night…..in truth, this scared me a bit….

Because it was so dumb!

I hurt myself on a shelf. And I can’t help but think that 25 years ago, this would not have been an issue.

And today, some movements are still a little angry, but I went back to Orange Theory. I made have wept a bit as I watched my SPLAT points add up, as my heart rate rose and as the angst in my head turned into strokes on a bike.

I kissed my bicep as it moved through exercises with little protest.

Bicep- you’re a good muscle and I find delight in you. I will never take you for granted or reach beyond my means on slippery floors.

You only get one of these bodies. As I get older, I realize mine is just fine.

Pass the jelly donuts.

This evening was my first session as a horse leader at the Colorado Therapeutic Riding Center. I keep meaning to post of photo with my horsey friends but every time I show up at the Center, my head and hands are busy and the phone stays in my pocket- which might be another delight.

I’ve always loved horses but as I grow older, these beautiful animals are leaving a deeper impression on me; their personalities, the non-verbal communication, the need for me to be aware of my own space as I interact with them.

My gait needs to interact with theirs.

My eyes need to focus on where we want to go.

I need to be cognizant that this beastie next to me has its very own mind and opinion. It’s a delicate partnership.

And it’s all still new for me. Today I was so nervous I relied on help from other very generous volunteers.

But as the sunset over the mountains, I tucked my horse, Junior in for the night. As he ate his dinner, I thanked him for being such a good, patient horse on my first day. His tail swished as he munched.

And I was delighted.

A dear friend had major surgery last week.

A holy-crap what did they do to your foot type of surgery

A let’s stick a screw up your foot type of surgery.

None of this is delightful.

But this evening it was quite delightful to drop off a meal and sit with a friend who never sits. In fact, I posted this picture because it’s the only one I could find of her not skiing or biking, or hiking.

My friend never sits still- unless you stick a screw up her foot.

To the delight of our healing bodies, sitting still even when it’s only when you must and to friend time.

Heal fast Love 🙂