why do you get up in the morning?

Why do you get up in the morning?

Why is it that we can do the same things, day in and day out - wake up, go to work, meetings, errands, gym, home...rinse and repeat - and yet we inherently do not reflect on WHY we do it?

Simon Sinek's recent bestselling book "Start with Why" has certainly instigated reflection in my life.  Not just reflection, but also analysis:  when you ask an employee to do something, how much more motivated is he/she when the "why" for the task is known?  Why do I do certain things, like washing my car or worrying about what others think about me?  I have found that when I drill down into an issue and search for the real "why" for my reasoning, it's simultaneously unnerving and clarifying. Try it.

Let's ask the question:  why DO you get up in the morning?  Ask "why" (about 5-10 times) until you realize your true motivation.

My response goes something like this:

Because I have to go to work. Blah.
(why?)
Because I need money to live, and right now that means working my white collar job.
(why?)
Because  I haven't reached the point yet where I can wake up when I want to and smash that alarm clock to smithereens.
(why?)
Because sometimes I live afraid.  Afraid of stepping out and taking a chance.
(why?)
Because I've let the lie of "survive this life" hook me in.  Instead of thrive.  Because I'm learning more about this way of thinking that trusts God wants good for me. 
(why?)
Because I want to live my life unafraid and without regrets. 
 (why?)
Because I believe that life is a gift, and if we don't wake up and live it, it will pass me (us) by.  I want to get to heaven and sigh with peace that I lived fully and unafraid.

This was kind of circular reasoning, but that's not the point.  The point is that asking "why" gets you thinking about your deep inner life, and your motivation.  When you latch onto that, life suddenly comes into focus - I get up in the morning because I am striving to live my life to the fullest (shout out to the Carpe diem'ers of the world), and although I haven't gotten it all figured out yet, I keep pressing inward and upward. 

matrix wake up call

new life

My mom seems to believe in me at all the right times - at least now that I'm an "adult," I feel that way. I find it extraordinary that someone who birthed you, who is clearly "ahead of you" in life, can one day end up being your friend. When we take this shallow earthly thing we call TIME out of the equation, it's more easily understood.

Last Friday I helped my friend deliver her baby into this world. Literally - her boyfriend was there, but didn't want to be involved in the process. The nurse said they needed one person to hold the leg, and I was so excited that that person was going to be me! I was the first one to see the head crest the surface - what a miracle this little body bobbing around in her tummy. Although daddy Reggie thought I was weird for wanting that "up-close-and-personal" view, I took it as a great honor and opportunity. I was reminded of stories of when my mom was pushing out her own kids.... dad wasn't allowed to eat his candy bar in the corner,  how he had to fight for her to not get a C-section, and how in the end, all three of us girls were there when my youngest sister, little Lizzy was born.

Baby Zolivia entered this world last Friday at 0306 in the am, and I wonder what this world will bring her. What stories will she remember of her mom?

a day in the life

Isn't it funny how you find your mom somehow finagling her way into your daily life...through you?

I find myself seeing her in how I handle a situation, how I drink my tea, or even how I wear my make-up. We both like to capitalize on that red lipstick, and bam - do we blondes capitalize on Mary Kay.

As a tomboy, I guess if it wasn't for my mom, I really would never have discovered make up. We didn't go shopping for school clothes, let alone make up, until high school. That's when I got my first Mary Kay compact, which I still have more than 10 years later (fairly remarkable, really). Mom taught me how to purse my lips and brush my eyelashes against the mascara. She also told us girls to keep our "chest out, butt in" - who says that these days?! She certainly wasn't a booty call mother, but she believed in correcting our posture and ensuring we took care of whatever assets we had.

I'm not sure who taught my mom to put on make up. It certainly wasn't her mother, who to this day refuses to acknowledge her daughter's presence, let alone grandchildren. I've personally never met my maternal grandmother, but my sisters' horror stories mirror what my mother used to tell us behind tears growing up. She never knew why her mother hated her so much, and fed her chunk milk on the basement steps if it was a good day, and slammed her head against the wall if it was a bad day.

I'm just glad my mom taught me how to put on my make up.