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As we celebrate Volunteer Week, we look at volunteers and all their accomplishments for the community.  There is no doubt that as a society we need to be grateful for those that step up and pitch in, whether that be as a formal volunteer or a community helper that simply steps forward when someone is in need.

Today I want to look at volunteerism from a completely selfish point of view.  I volunteer for many reasons and many of them are completely self-centred.  I don’t believe that it diminishes the gift one bit.  It only makes it a win-win situation.

Direction

My first volunteer position was as a Big Sister when I was 18 years old.  I had no clear idea of what I wanted to do with my life and I thought that getting involved would help me figure it out.  I spent 2-4 hours a week with my little sister.  She was 6 at the time and living in a foster home with her foster Grandma and 2 younger sisters.  I stayed involved with my Little for a long time.  I was 21 when she and her sisters moved into her permanent home out of town.  During that time there was laughter, ice cream, bike rides and a few tears.   I learned how lucky I have been in my life, how good a little hug can make you feel and that indeed I wanted to be in a helping profession.  She gave to me, much more than I ever gave to her.  She gave me direction.

Connection

While I was in University I explored some other options.  I found a place called Student Help.  It was a peer support team at the University of Alberta (now called the Peer Support Centre).  I learned skills in crisis intervention, helping skills and most profoundly about people (not to mention that a good beer tastes better when shared by the pitcher).  I loved the work but I also found people just like me, other people driven to help.  Eventually I was given a job at Student Help, got paid to be there and it is where I met my husband.

As time went on I volunteered at the Distress Line in Edmonton.  It is an amazing place where I met all my best friends.  It was a magical time of both professional and personal growth.  I continue to volunteer as a way to connect to people.  Most recently I did some work with my Dad at the St. Albert Food Bank and Community Village.  It was a wonderful way to spend time with him and do something more meaningful than a night of TV or going to a movie. Volunteering has given me connections.

Values 

Recently my daughter’s Grade 2 class was discussing volunteerism in their Health class.  My daughter came home so excited.  She got to be a special expert for the class. She got to tell the class about her various volunteer roles, how she helps the community and how that makes her feel.  She volunteers for our Community League with her Dad and for the Edmonton Humane Society with me.  We were very proud parents and more importantly she was very proud of herself.  Volunteering has helped me be a better parent and helped me teach my children our values.

Perspective

Sometimes we have to get out of our own head in order to gain perspective.  Volunteering can help you see your life in a different way and help bring meaning to the mundane.  In short it is good for your mental health. In my practice I often recommend that people volunteer if they are bored, depressed or struggling with their life. Seeing how others live, contributing to a greater good and challenging yourself to think bigger is a good thing.  Volunteering has given me this perspective.  

Meaning

I define myself as a Volunteer.  It is engrained in who I am.  So when my husband’s aunt, Gloria, was dying of cancer I felt powerless to do anything useful.  The answer for me was to get back into my comfort zone to volunteer.  It was a small gesture but I wanted to do something, so I donated my long hair to make wigs for cancer patients as a way to feel even a small sense of control.  It helped, even though Gloria thought I was crazy.  She preferred artificial hair in her wigs.  Also I think she couldn’t imagine why someone would give up their hair on purpose.  But it did help me and that counts.  Many people try to make meaning of their lives through volunteering their time and energy to a cause close to their heart.  Volunteering can help find that meaning.

There are many reasons to volunteer: some are selfless acts, others are more personal.  Regardless of why you volunteer, your community, your family and I am grateful to you for making this world a better place.  Happy Volunteer Week.

If you haven’t tried volunteering, give it a shot.  It is well worth the sacrifice.

 

There is a curious thing about me.  One that my loved ones find “quirky.”  I am in love with a frog.  As I grow older my love for this frog only gets more intense and less rational.  Of course this is not romantic, he is after all in love with a pig.  Well, maybe not in love, but in a relationship that can only be described as complicated.   I see him more as a mentor.

Perhaps it is juvenile to be inspired by a frog but I find Kermit is one of my favorite philosophers and humanitarians.  Jim Henson created a character that is wise, silly, kind and fiercely loyal.

Why Kermit?  I remember as a child watching the Muppet Show and Seasame Street.  Something about him and his gang of misfits has always drawn me in.  He represents many of the qualities that I value in people and relationships.

Life is Complicated

The beauty of the Muppets is in their simplicity.  They are who they are and they are happy that way.  Like most children’s programs there are villains and heroes, there are challenges to overcome and there are happy endings.  But for the Muppets that is often not the point.  The story is a journey: a contrived story line, a show within a show.  The plot is usually an after thought.

The bad guys often get the same respect as the good guys.  The bad guys are usually not bad but just misunderstood.  The good guys get made fun of as much as the bad guys.  No one is safe from a bad joke, an unfortunate piano accident or sarcastic ridicule.  That doesn’t matter.  What matters is the relationships, the team work and getting on with the show.  That is how I feel about life.

Acceptance, Loyalty and Leadership

Chickens, strange alien creatures, and an odd assortment of monsters follow Kermit’s lead.  He accepts his friends for all their faults and manages to bring out the best in each of them,  whether it be a mildly funny bear or accident prone scientists or a couple of crotchety old men.  He is the one constant that brings them together even when he doesn’t always have it together himself.

Jim Henson once said:

Kermit’s function on this show is very much like my own in that he’s trying to hold together this group of crazies.  And that’s not unlike what I do.

All around Kermit is total mayhem (even Electric Mayhem). He is able to be the glue that keeps his gang of misfits together.  As a parent I can relate.   I strive to be all of these things for my friends and family.  But like Kermit sometimes I just have to wave my hands in the air, scream wildly and just join in.

Genuine

Here’s some simple advice: Always be yourself. Never take yourself too seriously.  And beware of advice from experts, pigs and members of parliament.  -Kermit

I was once asked what is the quality I find the most central to who I am.  The answer is being genuine.  I find it difficult not to be exactly who I am.  I value this in myself and others above all else.  But despite this I often screw it up.

We all wear masks, or act like puppets at times.  Most of the time this doesn’t feel good.  It makes us feel like we are something we are not.  It makes us distrust our relationships with others and ourselves.  Kermit is literally a puppet and yet  he is always unaware that he is not real.  But in many ways that makes him more like the rest of us.  He has outlived his creator and lives on anyway.

Wisdom

I’ve got a dream too, but it’s about singing and dancing and making people happy.  That’s the kind of dream that gets better the more people you share it with.  And well, I’ve found a whole bunch of friends who have the same dream.  And it kind of makes us like a family.  -Kermit

My draw to Kermit reminds me of being young, having dreams and fighting for those dreams.  He reminds me of my family, both the genetic ones and the chosen ones. There doesn’t always have to be a reason to do what I do but I should always have a dream.

Like me, Kermit reflects inwardly in his quiet moments.  He often reflects upon his greenness and how difficult life can be.  Mostly he thinks about the wonders of the world, most famously he wonders about rainbows.  These are the reasons why I love that frog.

I leave you with a slightly different spin on one of Kermit’s most famous quotes because with Statler and Waldorf around Kermit doesn’t often get the last word.

Life’s like a movie, write your own ending.  Keep believing, keep pretending.  We’ve done just what we set out to do.  Thanks to the lovers the dreamers and you.  -Kermit and the Muppets

 

 

Every few years my husband and I sit down and make a Bucket List.  For those of you who don’t know, a Bucket List is a list of things that you want to do before you kick the bucket.  Usually we open a bottle of wine, sit together on the couch and start dreaming. While doing some spring cleaning today, I stumbled upon a list from a few years ago.

It is interesting to take a look back at what were our priorities just a short time ago.  Apparently seeing “Wicked”  made the cut.   We did see it.  It was a great show but for the life of me I can’t figure out why it was so important that it made the list.

Many of the things that we put on the list have already been accomplished.  For example, meeting my youngest nephew, finishing my Master’s degree, Tim running for office and adding a dog to our family.  These things I can understand as priorities and I am pleased that we have been able to cross them off our list.

There are many places on the list that we want to go.  None of them have been crossed off the list these past few years.  It seems that the activities of daily life have pushed them to the bottom of the priorities.  One day I still hope to go on these adventures but right now a weekend away with my husband or a family trip to the beach seem so much more important.  I’m going to add those to the next list.

Some of the most impactful moments in the last few years of my life were never on the list to begin with.  These adventures were happy surprises.  Marrying one of my best friends to the love of her life on a beach in Mexico,  getting a midnight call when their baby was on the way, teaching young Social Workers the skills they will need to do good in the world,  opening a private practice, watching my son and daughter grow.  These are all things that didn’t make the list.  Yet they make up some of the happiest moments in my life.

One day this list will be painful because there will be losses along the way.  We will eventually run out of time.  The best things in life are also the ones that leave us the most vulnerable.  For now our Bucket List is a reminder of who we were a few years back. It is a reminder of where we wanted to go with our lives and how we have changed.  It reminds me to be open to the unexpected adventures.  Most importantly it reminds me of the fact that eventually my time on earth will be over and to embrace the time I have.

Now if you will excuse me I need to look at the price of plane flights to Atlanta so I can go see the Muppet museum.  One day I am going to see that frog.

 

Spring is in the air.  On warm days, I mean that literally.  Spring brings mother nature out in all her glory.  Sadly before the blooms come out of the mucky melt we have to face the smell of half frozen dog poop.

I was walking my dog recently and found myself getting increasingly annoyed as I walked down the beautiful walking trails around my house.  There was dog poop everywhere.  I found myself in a very negative place.  “Why don’t people pick this crap up?”  “How can people be so inconsiderate?”  “No wonder people think dog owners are awful and dogs are filthy.”  The more times I would go for a walk the more angry I would become.

Anger is one of those feelings that is pretty complicated.  It is always rooted in something deeper than the surface.  It is what many call a secondary emotion.  It cannot live on its own.  It has a deep root system that supports its poisonous flowers.  For me, my anger often comes with a sense of injustice and powerlessness, for others it is fear, hurt, pain, loneliness, or trauma.

Every year in our local paper there are Letters to the Editor that start to show up with others also complaining about the dog poop issue.  I often read these letters and think that they are fruitless.  The people that aren’t cleaning up after their dogs are likely not about to engage in a debate about it or may not even read the paper.  Nevertheless at least they are doing something.

I had an “ah ha”  moment on one of my walks.  I am not powerless in my anger.  I could do something about this.  Instead of walking around seething, I took out one of my plastic bags and picked the poop up.  I decided that I would pick up one pile of dog poop that wasn’t my dogs on each daily walk.  That way I could change all the negativity I felt into something more productive.   Even if it is a small change at least it would make a difference.   I picked up over 20 piles of poop that walk and believe it or not I felt great.

I know many people would argue that they shouldn’t have to compensate for another person’s arrogance or that it isn’t their responsibility to clean up poop.  I agree it isn’t.  It shouldn’t have to be this way but I would rather be part of the solution than allow my anger to ruin my daily walk with my dog.  It isn’t about being a “a tree hugger” or a “do-gooder”. It is about taking pride in my community, in being concerned about the health of my neighbors and, most importantly, about taking control of my life and my emotions.  Will my effort make any difference?  I don’t know if it will on the larger stage but I know it does to me.  That is reason enough.

I often remind my clients that emotions are important.  We should allow ourselves to embrace them intensely.  Eventually they will change.   Anger often turns to action.  We can choose if it is positive action or a damaging or hurtful kind of action.   Today I chose positive action.  I will do so on every walk I take this spring.  I chose not to be a victim but a positive force, even in this small way.

I hope that others will be inspired by my “Poop Project”  to find a way to clean the crap out of their own lives too.

Some days just suck.  For many people Valentine’s Day is one of those days.  It can be a stark reminder of things that we have lost.  Relationships, family, marriages and so many other things.  For some it is a reminder of what they see as their own failures. “I’m not married yet.” “I wanted to have children by now.”  It also can lead to great disappointment. “Why hasn’t he proposed yet?” “This isn’t the person I want to be with.”

Valentine’s can make us feel unlovable, insecure and lonely.  As with any holiday it can cause us to look around and compare our lives to those around us.  In these superficial comparisons we often come up short.

For those having a good Valentine’s Day.  Cherish it.  Stay in the moment and enjoy every second.  Remember that this day can be a hard time for others.  Try not to judge them, just show compassion to those who are struggling.

For those in the Broken Hearts Club this Valentine’s day. Here are a few tips.

1. Try not to compare your life with others.  You have no idea what their life is like behind the closed doors.  You don’t know about their insecurities, their fears or the quality of their relationships.
2. It is OK to be grumpy, sad, angry and hurt.  Fighting your emotions gives them more power. Let them flow through you.  Eventually they will pass. 
3. Take care of yourself.  Eat well, drink lots of water and try to get some sleep.
4. Acknowledge that you are grieving.  It may be a death of someone close, an idea of how you want your life to be, or the loss of a relationship.  Grief is a normal reaction to any of these things.
5. Celebrate what you do have. Genuine gratitude has an amazing way of changing your perspective.
6. Valentine’s Day is about love.  Start with yourself.    

These may or may not be helpful to you.  Trust yourself and what you need.  You are the expert on you.  Hopefully Valentine’s will be better next year. 

“Why is my child so anxious?”  It is an impossible question to answer.  While parents often want to assign blame to biology, personality of their child, bullies, our increasingly anti-social society or any other number of factors, in reality the question they are asking is based in fear.  “Is it my fault?”  The answers to why this is happening is always complicated and most often irrelevant.  It is likely a combination of many of those things.   Anxiety just is what it is.

I have been asked to present this weekend to the Parent Group at the Head Start Program in Sturgeon County.  These are parents of preschool aged children, some of them struggling with anxious children.  So for the past few weeks I have been thinking about how I should answer such a difficult question and more importantly what I can say to them that will help.

In my experience, supporting every anxious child is an anxious family.  This is because anxiety is contagious.  Anxious parents make anxious kids and anxious kids make for anxious parents.  It is as circular as the old chicken or egg debate.  Who introduced the contagious element to the family matters no more than who first brought in a flu bug.  When it is there you have no choice but to deal with it.

Sadly, parents often feel blamed for their child’s anxiety.  They are given contradictory advice.  Parents are told to be softer on their kids or be more firm.  They are told to ignore their children’s emotions or that they should talk to them about their feelings  more.  No wonder they are anxious.  Let me be perfectly clear.  It is nobody’s fault but every family member has a role in the solution.

As strange as it may seem, anxiety is really not the enemy.  You can’t ever completely rid it from your home.  Nor do you want to.  Anxiety is a good thing.  Like stress, it brings with it a heightened sense of danger, excitement and life.  It warns us of potential trouble but also motivates us to act.  People who embrace anxiety are more successful because they take chances.  They live life to the fullest.  They enjoy the adrenaline and rush of pride and accomplishment that happens when you overcome the anxiety of a situation.  After all, the most stressful and anxiety evoking times are also the ones we value the most in our lives when they go well:  births, weddings, graduations and holidays.

The real enemy is fear: fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of humiliation, fear of the unknown and fear of loss.   When anxiety turns to fear, we avoid it at all costs.  Some people avoid school, public places, social situations, sports, friends, family, people in general, new things and anything else you can imagine. When we are afraid we seek safety and security.  Children look to their parents to protect them and parents oblige for fear of their children’s emotions.  Fear is an ugly beast.

Anxiety is a future oriented emotion.  We worry about things in the present that are not yet here.   So in many ways it is our imagination that we are battling and the fear of “what if?”  So the advice I have for parents is this: if you have children struggling with anxiety make sure your own anxiety is being dealt with first.  You are the greatest role model in your child’s life.  If you need help, get it.  Your child will learn the importance of reaching out.  Second, help your whole family be mindful of the present rather than spending their time in the future.  We only have control of the here and now.

Brandy was the best dog ever.  We got her when I was in diapers.  She was a cross between a German Shepard and a Terrier.  She loved to play fetch and once you started, she would put that slimy ball in front of you for hours.  One of my favourite things about Brandy is that she couldn’t swim.  She always looked like she was swimming but if you had goggles or a mask on you would see she was just walking underwater.  My Dad had to rescue her on more than one occasion because she would “swim” out in lakes to get sticks or whatever else we threw into the water.  Determined to fetch, she would get in over her head and then need rescuing.

She was a smart dog and loyal.  If I was sick, or just being a moody tween, Brandy would sit and listen to all I had to say.  All she asked for was the occasional tummy rub.

When I was 14 years old and home for lunch one day I heard the sound of thumping on the floor above me.  When I went upstairs to investigate, I saw Brandy disoriented and foaming at her mouth.  She couldn’t walk but she tried really hard.  It was heart breaking.  The next few months were pretty torturous for all of us.  Brandy was having seizures. They weren’t entirely sure why.   The vet tried some medication.  Brandy was so doped up that she would get stuck in corners of the house and not know how to get out.  Her personality began to change with each seizure.

After a while she would go through moments that she clearly didn’t recognize us any more and she would start to growl.  I was watching my loyal friend slowly die.  My parents didn’t want to put Brandy down.  They wanted to make sure that we tried everything first.  I think they knew how hard it was going to be on all of us.  But it was time.  If you talk to my parents now they will tell you it was a mistake to keep her around as long as we did.  We all just wanted to hang on to some hope.

I remember clearly the day my parents made their decision.  Brandy hid under my brother’s bed and wouldn’t come out.  I remember calling her to come to me, and in the last hours of her life, she finally responded and came out only to be taken to the vet.  Instead of seeing the joy in that last glimpse of recognition, for years I felt like on some level I killed my dog because I got her out from under that bed.

At 14 I had no skills to deal with this loss.  I had a pretty sheltered life, a good childhood and a stable home.  No one in my life had ever died.  Brandy’s death at that time in my life was devastating.  The idea that my life would always include not just Brandy but everyone I loved was shattered.  Looking back I can tell you that many things started going down hill for me from there.  The next few years were difficult to say the least.  It didn’t all have to do with my dog’s death but like in any grief, it triggered many things for me that I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Any grief is complicated.  Loss of a pet can be complicated too.  Many people don’t recognize the loss of a pet as a legitimate reason to grieve.  They ignore their feelings or hide them because they are ashamed.  After all “it is just a dog.”  This attitude can have negative consequences to those who are struggling to find support, especially children.  It is never helpful to judge other’s grief.  It only puts up walls in relationships and creates emotional baggage for all.

My first loss helped prepare me for other losses in my life and it taught me how much I love animals.  We convinced my parents years later to get another dog.  Keltie was every bit as important to me.  Even though she wasn’t nearly as smart, she was just as loyal.  She never figured out fetch but she could run and herd us like no one’s business.  She was part Whippet.  This year we got Bailey, a German Shepherd cross.  Our family consists of four people, two cats and a dog.  Because of my relationships with my dogs, I wanted my kids to grow up with that kind of unconditional love.

It is funny how things sometime come full circle.  My first experience of loss was my beloved pet and that started me on a career as a Therapist that specializes in grief.  Recently I was asked to partner with Part of the Family: Pet Memorial Centre to provide some of their clients grief therapy.  They are a funeral home for our furry friends (and those without fur, too).  I know how people love their pets and how difficult it can be when they aren’t there to greet us when we come home.  Sharing their grief may help ease the hurt and remind them of the joyful memories.

Thursday was a good day.  It started with a secret dream of mine.  One that was buried somewhere in my psyche.  When I was little I used to tell people that my Dad was Santa and my Mom Mrs. Claus. If you know my parents then you can understand where this came from.  My Dad is a bit jolly and my Mom is a Christmas decorating, cookie baking machine.  Turns out I was right all those years ago.

On Thursday my Dad reluctantly agreed to play Santa at my son’s Play-school   He was so nervous that he researched and even dug out some sleigh bells to perfect the ensemble.  I must say that he was a perfect Santa.  Although I’m not sure he will indulge me a second time.  I re-experienced the joy of Christmas as I watched him interact with the kids.  One little girl almost pushed him right off his chair when her name was called.  She did a running jump that could put any any other hug to shame.   I watched in awe and exhilaration.  On Thursday, I felt like a kid again watching my Dad be the hero.

That afternoon my Dad offered to watch my son while I went Christmas shopping with my Mom.  With the hustle and bustle of kids around we don’t often get a chance to catch up with each other.  My Mom is a chronic worrier as all mothers are.  It was nice to put that aside and spend time thinking about Christmas and what would bring joy to her grand kids faces.  We have gotten skilled in the art of spending each other’s money.  On Thursday I got to re-experience the unique connection between a mother and daughter.

Thursday evening was another magical moment.  We have lovely neighbours that have adopted our kids as their own.  They requested a new holiday tradition.  That we take time each year to spend with each other and forget the presents cause the memories are more important.  We went to a local art studio to create a clay family portrait.  I can’t even put into words how much fun we had rolling out the clay and moulding it into little versions of us.  There is something special about the family you chose that is different than the family you are born with.   I am lucky enough to have many of these relationships in my life.  On Thursday I got to experience that joy.

Thursday will go down in my memory as one of my best days.  It was all time well spent.  It is why holidays are so important as a way to make memories.  Thursday was a good day.

On Friday a man walked into a school in Connecticut and took the lives of 26 people, 20 of them children my daughter’s age.  Friday was not a good day.  The events in Connecticut made for an ugly reminder that I only have so many days like Thursday with my family.   I have held my children tighter since Friday as I am sure we all did.  Life can be ugly and scary but it can also be filled with pure joy.  I want to hang on to every second of it with my kids, even the temper tantrums my son has perfected recently or the chronic cotton balls that must be stuck in my daughter’s ears when I ask he to clean up after herself.  I can’t imagine ever losing them.  Friday I was forced to think about it and I don’t want to go there again.

While my heart breaks for the family of the victims,  I remind myself that those families also had days like I did on Thursday.  One day I hope those memories will take up more room in their hearts than the violence and grief that fills them now.  Until then I hope they can grieve. I hope that they find some comfort in that we all grieve with them.

Grief is a natural and necessary reaction to change in our lives.  It can happen after the loss of a loved one, after a dramatic life event, illness, career changes and innumerable other life events.  It is an emotional reaction that symbolizes our response to the loss of things and people that are important to us.  It is a powerful reminder of our character, our values and how we choose to live our lives.  I believe that the pain of grief is as essential to living a good life as the elation of joy and love.  Love and loss are intimately connected.

Our society is one that continually tries to avoid pain, from the epidurals used to provide comfort to our mothers as we come into the world, to the comfort care we provide dying patients and everything in between.  We drink, do drugs, watch TV, gamble, play video games, eat, and check our Facebook statuses as a way to numb ourselves from what is actually happening in our lives.  We obsess over the lives of celebrities, fictional characters and gossip about our neighbours all as a way of not looking at ourselves. We are a society of avoiders.

Don’t get me wrong, all of these things have a place.  Medication can alleviate suffering.  A good TV show can help deal with the stress of a bad day.  Facebook can be a wonderful way to keep up with friends.  My concern however is the way in which we try to sterilize our lives from discomfort.

This morning I was reading some articles on the new DSM 5 (See them here on Psychology Today and The Huffington Post).  The DSM 5 is a manual that Psychiatrists and other mental health professionals use to diagnose people with mental illness.  The manual is supposed to give professionals a way to talk about and treat people that are suffering because of how their mind functions.  It is used as a way to categorize who qualifies for funding and treatments and who does not.  It can be a useful tool but can be used as a weapon for stigma and shame.

Previously the DSM differentiated between grief and major depression.  The DSM 4 recognized the diagnostic criteria for major depression was similar to the symptoms of those grieving but the manual purposely excluded grievers from the diagnosis of Major Depression.  This was a recognition that while grief can cause serious emotional and physical disturbances in a persons life, it is not a mental illness.  The new version of the DSM removes this distinction thereby making grief pathological.  The new DSM will also create a new diagnosis called Complicated Grief. While I agree that some grievers need extra attention and support through their journey, I’m not convinced that diagnosing them with a mental illness is the answer.

In my experience too many grievers are already on anti-depressants, and anti-anxiety medication.  While these medications can provide short term relief from suffering, grief is not something that can be permanently medicated out of our lives.  Medication often only postpones and lengthens what will come eventually.  This might be helpful to some in extreme situations but for most grievers it is not necessary or helpful.

Grief is a part of life.  Just like death it lurks in a background reminding us that we are vulnerable and our lives are precious.  I believe that acceptance, understanding and compassion for ourselves and those around us is the way to explore, embrace and learn from grief.  By leaning into the pain we learn about ourselves, each other and about the meaning of our lives.

In the bathroom of a diner in Victoria, I found exactly what I needed.  My family was about to start our voyage home after a lovely weekend away.  The kids were excited and a bit rambunctious.   As anyone that has had the pleasure of travelling with small children will know excited children are cute but they can seriously get under a parent’s skin when walking down busy streets and through security at an airport.  The day had just begun and I was already irritated.

On the back of the door in the bathroom was a sign.  It said “Take What You Need”  with little cut outs that a passer-by could rip off and take with them.  One of the tabs said “Patience.”  I ripped it off and put it in my pocket.  The sign was a simple gesture that I found myself thinking back to the rest of the day.  My daughter even asked about it occasionally.  “Mom do you still have your patience?” My answer always was the same.  “Yeah sweetheart.  It is right here in my pocket.”  That simple gift from an anonymous stranger with a bit of wit and some scotch tape made my day.

I was so inspired by this brief moment in my life that I have found myself taping these signs to random bathroom doors.  I took them to my class and shared them with my students.  They are posting them now too.  I even posted a picture of the sign on Facebook and one of my friends put a similar sign up on her office door.  She told me that she marvels at how the tags keep disappearing.  Sometimes they start a conversation.  Sometimes they are just gone.

Now one is on my office door as well.  I have had many stop at my door and ask me which ones people are taking.  I’m going to keep track.  That way I can update my tabs to reflect what people around me are looking for.

It is a simple gesture that has a surprising impact on hope.  Someone took the time out of their day to tape a silly sign on a door that warmed my heart.  I hope that my signs do the same for others.  You never know who needs a smile and a bit of encouragement.  And maybe the sign will empower someone to go ahead and take what they need.