Author: kathyagilbert

The Miracle of an Anniversary

It’s a miracle really.  Staying married. Two people come together at one point in time, each who they are at that moment. Times change and people follow suit.

There is no magic lens to see what we will both be like in 5 years, 10, or 50. Nope, we have the present day love and the desire to unite that love through marriage. 

We gladly say richer or poorer, better or worse, sickness or health with no idea how that will play out. It doesn’t take long to settle into everyday life, however. Kids are born, roles morph, careers take sharp turns. In the midst of it all, we are slowly changing. We probably no longer love all the items that were on our registries. 

The life we experience comes at us from all directions, and the relationship that once took front and center slowly ambles to the edges. There is little time to process all that life together. Sometimes it can leave us feeling lonely, mad, sad, even hopeless. But there are also times we experience great joy, peace, unity, and hope. 

At the end of the day, marriage is a decision to stay. I recognize that there are times where that’s not the outcome. And for everyone who has gone through that or is in the process of ending a marriage, my heart can only imagine the pain associated with it all. 

But today, a day which marks 35 years, I am celebrating the miracle of staying together. It has been filled with every emotion known to man.  From “I wouldn’t change a thing” to “Everything’s a disaster.” From sheer happiness to unrelenting tears. From richer and poorer, better and worse, health and sickness. I have a good idea how that plays out now.  It looked better 35 years ago, as a figment of my imagination.

This much I know: Marriage is hard, like the hardest thing ever. A lot of days it wasn’t fun, not all laughs and giggles. Heck, some days there wasn’t even talking. But somehow we chose to stay. We chose to believe that it was better together.

Anniversaries are celebrations of the love that’s still in there, however deep it may get buried over time. There’s a much better understanding of what love means. Because at the end of the day, marriage is the result of commitment, hard work, a ton of amazing grace.

And a little bit miracle.

Better Than Patience?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the word patience. It seems such an old word; we’ve heard it all our lives. Parents, teachers, grandparents alike encouraged us with, “You must be patient, honey.” It always felt heavy, like there’s a ton of bricks we needed to carry.

Patience is “a willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay.” I can definitely relate to the word annoyance. When things don’t happen as quickly as we  would like, that is often our first response. It always involves waiting, for something or someone. It most always includes our agenda.

When we confront our annoyance, it helps us be more even tempered and non-reactive. It helps us when dealing with other people. It’s only been relatively recently that patience has been directed towards ourselves. We are told to be patient with the things we are waiting on and the people we are waiting for.

But although patience is an admirable quality, I’ve been thinking that maybe acceptance might be even better. It gets at the heart of our agenda. Acceptance is about not allowing annoyance to emerge in the first place. And although I could be  splitting hairs here (truly patient people have likely already conquered this), I think it’s always helpful to reframe things to get a new look. Maybe it’s more a reminder than a revelation. 

Some of my greatest growth has occurred from just accepting situations and people as they are. Most of us want to fix things, mostly to address our own fears and insecurity. Acceptance doesn’t mean never trying to change a situation, but at this stage of life, most of us have recognized we are not really able to control much.

The best part of acceptance is that it helps us enjoy the moment we are in. Patience can  still focus on the thing we are waiting for, so there is often a hook. “I will patiently wait for that thing to happen, that person to change, that healing to come.” But acceptance says that all I have for today is enough. Today, this moment, this situation holds its arms out to us. It doesn’t mean we have to like it; it just means that we accept if for today. We let go of what we want to happen. We breathe deeply and release our expectations and demands. 

This is easy to write, easy to agree with. But dang, it is not easy to live. A benefit of growing older is we can see farther back. We can see that all the things we tantrumed about eventually did what they did. And whether we liked it all or not, we are still living and still get to choose how we tell that story. 

So I am working on not just telling myself to be more patient. I’m asking myself to accept what is. This day, this situation, this precious moment. It helps if I get alone and still my ever-racing mind with the following thoughts:

This day is enough.

This situation is enough.

This moment is enough.

And because of that, I am at peace.

When It Doesn’t Bloom: The Sequel

I recently wrote about how my Christmas amaryllis did not show up for its holiday, prompting me to write about patience and carrying the word “bloom” into the new year.

Watching that thing sit from the beginning of November til well after Christmas caused me to realize that blooming is not so much an event as it is a process. Deep inside, there is so much going on, so much growth that is hidden to the eye. 

At this season of life, I am not about all the things I must accomplish to be successful. Nor am I focused on the expectations of others. Much like the amaryllis, which couldn’t care less about what I expected, there are processes taking place that are unfolding at their own pace and not interested in what I, or anyone else, has to say.

This past week, my little amaryllis decided to pop open. At Christmas time, there would have been lights, ornaments, and sparkle competing for attention. But now, in the midst of a cold, rainy, gray January, this bright red pop of color has it all. It has bloomed when truly needed, and although it feels a little loud and out of place, it stands proud and confident in its timing.

That beautiful flower continues to teach me about life. 

  1. There is a time for every purpose under heaven. But we do not usually get to determine that time or purpose.
  2. Just because the eye doesn’t pick up on activity doesn’t mean there is no activity taking place.
  3. When things don’t happen according to our timetable,  we can be tempted to use the word “failure.” But there is always, always, something taking place that we cannot know.
  4. When we least expect it, new growth will surprise us with beauty. And that beauty needs not only to be recognized, but celebrated.
  5. Joy and celebration need to become a bigger part of everyday life. We need to embrace struggle, pain, joy, and celebration as they wrap their arms around each other. It’s not a simple two step these days. 

All the things I had hoped would bloom sooner in my own life are no longer my focus. I am trusting the process. This amaryllis was prepared and had everything it needed to bloom. It didn’t need me to water it or fertilize it. Our growth is being timed to bloom when it is most needed–not only for us–but for those around us. 

To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. Maybe what’s been resting underneath our skin is getting ready to pop. Let’s be ready to celebrate the blooms that pop when least expected. Beautiful, loud, and out of season. There is a little amaryllis inside us all. 

When it Doesn’t Bloom

I have gone back and forth about whether to choose a word of the year. These days, I don’t want to do things just for the sake of doing them. 

But turns out, I didn’t have to pick a word. As it often happens, the word chose me.

I had bought an amaryllis early in November and began waiting for it to flower. If slow and steady wins the race, this thing has been a rock star. I, on the other hand, have just been impatient.

Recently I was in a long line at Target and a young boy was complaining to his grandmother about waiting. In a very calm voice she said to the boy, “It is good for people to wait, honey. It teaches patience.”

Ugh. I did not want patience. I wanted to get out of the store. But her calm voice has stayed with me. The other day, I heard her words as I was looking at the bulb. It’s good for you to wait, honey. There’s a lot still going on under the surface. It will bloom, just not according to your timetable.

So because my amaryllis is taking its sweet old time, the word “bloom” is headed into the new year. And it is a perfect word for me.

Blooming isn’t about an instant pop of color. Nor is it really the “bloom where you are planted” old adage. It’s not all about the event; it’s about the process.

This next year, I want to be mindful of the beauty encased in the growth process, however long it all takes. Some blooms are loud and flaunty. Others are small, maybe even hidden. I know that deep inside me, there is growth taking place in kindness, courage, strength, and love. I want to celebrate both the process and the bloom. Big, small, loud, flaunty, hidden. And to always remember that there is so much going on that’s hidden.

My amaryllis isn’t a failure. It doesn’t care about my expectations. What I thought to be a holiday flower is going to bloom when it feels like and will most likely be a little on the loud side when it does.

Maybe there’s a little amaryllis left in me as I flip the calendar over to the new year. There’s a lot taking place under the surface that I was hoping popped a little sooner. This just might be the year to trust that blooms will pop when they are ready. And because it’s not generally my style, maybe I’ll celebrate the flaunty ones a little more loudly.

Standing at the Starting Line

I recently started a part time job as a sales associate at a local home and garden store. Even though I had a lot of experience in other areas, I would be a “beginner” there. No training on a cash register, no idea where everything is, the one who would have more questions than answers.

Honestly, I feel like I’m starting over in just about every area of my life. That starting line isn’t the same as it was in the past, however. When we are older, we get to bring the confidence that comes from knowing all we have come through.

Sometimes we can look at how different everything looks and feel a little overwhelmed by it all. But it helps to remember that we are reinventing ourselves and these challenging transitions allow for some wonder to slip into our lives. This quiet confidence provides a beauty and a strength which is easily passed on to others. And that is its own reward.

So I’m bringing a smile and a warm hello to all who enter the store. I might have to ask for help at every turn, but I’m not frustrated by that. I am getting to learn new things and meet new people.

I can look backwards and forward from this point because even though I’m starting over, my “success” this time is measured by my confidence. No longer by acceptance or external validation.

True confidence does not come from knowing everyone will like you, or give you the job, or invite you to the event, or give you the award. It is knowing that even if none of those things happen, you will be ok.

For me, this isn’t just about a new job. It’s about new eyes, a new heart, new enthusiasm, and a new hope.

Every morning, the sun says, “It’s time to begin anew.” Every single time, it brings beauty along with it. I see you, my friend. I’m feeling the same way. Let’s go start anew and watch the beauty unfold as we go..

Drainage Ditches

Every day, we navigate between things that drain us and things that replenish us. Our health–both spiritual and physical–is contingent upon how much time we spend in each of those areas.

The big drainers are obvious: stress, sickness, sleepless nights, finances. We are usually aware when we are dealing with the big things. But, it’s those “daily concerns” that can get us. If we aren’t careful of how we manage those, we wind up drained, weary, and discouraged. If only those things came with a warning sign.

Well, actually, maybe they do. If we can get quiet, and focus on the present moment, our conscience will likely be warning us. Keep out of this ditch, it will whisper. We may be involved with talking negatively, thinking judgmentally, meditating on tomorrow’s problems, contemplating the “what ifs” of today, embracing the lies that parade as truth, self-focus, unforgiveness, excessive social media.

The bad and ugly come to drain us every day. But there are ways to stay out of drainage ditches. Mindfulness is one of the best ways to do this because it can open us up to our thoughts. 

I am learning to be still inside that I might observe my thoughts and, without judgment, gently replace them. I wish I could say I do this quickly every single time, but I am practicing and getting a little better at it.

We get more of what we focus on, so we want our thoughts focused on things that are good and beautiful and authentic. Those kinds of thoughts aren’t our go-to’s. Although we usually can’t control our circumstances, we can always choose our response.

It is in stillness that we will hear the words, “Keep Out. Drainage Ditch.” Kinda like a sign.

Platitudes: Meaningless or Motivating?

Giving it away right up front. Platitudes drive me crazy. Sometimes I (quietly) roll my eyes as I read about everything always working out as intended, always getting what is meant for you, never getting more than you can handle, always being the right time to begin again. 

Social media is full of them and sometimes I try really hard to believe, especially in the ones about starting over in life. As we get older, the life we lived day in and out changes. We have to accept the fact that who we are cannot be tied to a thing. It can’t be our jobs, our friendships, our talents, even our families. They all change.

A therapist once asked me who I was after the school I was a part of closed down. I literally had no idea. Am I a writer? Well, that is something you do, she explained. Who are you apart from what you do? Ummm…what are my options here? 

It has been about eight years since I’ve had a job, and that job consumed every last bit of my life. I was happy to take time to let my body heal from the stress of that job, along with an autoimmune diagnosis, and a lot of life transition.  I needed to breathe. 

It was hard “not doing anything” for so long. But the process helped me be at peace with my value apart from external responsibilities. It’s critical to reach that place if we want to successfully move forward as we get older.

I would keep running across platitudes that claimed age didn’t matter. I had been thinking about getting a part-time job, so I was attracted to these starting over ideas. It’s never too late to begin anew, they touted. Whatever we want, it’s all there for the taking. Yeah, maybe. 

I wanted to work somewhere that was fun and had opportunity to interact with people. The platitudes suggested I might have a chance.

So I clicked on an application to a popular home and garden store in our town, which seemed a perfect place to jump back in.  It required that I attach a resume. Well, that felt overwhelming and I almost closed my computer and quit.

I can do this, I assured myself. Admittedly, my experience had little to do with being a sales associate, but it had everything to do with people. Cover letter? Ok, I can do that too. But I’m telling you…it took some convincing.

The day after I submitted the application, I got a call. Honestly, I was a bit surprised. I thought the platitude might be overstating things just a bit. But, I got a call so what do I know anyway.

My interview is tomorrow and I am looking forward to seeing what happens. The possibility exists that they will say, “Thank you but not at this time.” On the flip side, maybe I’ll get that job.

The difference between a platitude and truth is whether or not they have application in life. I will have to let you know if those platitudes work. By definition, platitudes  are trite,  over used, and often meaningless. Probably just a placebo at best. 

I’m teetering on the line between belief and doubt. It’s just a sales position, but it feels bigger than that. It feels like risk.

“What if I fail? Oh but darling, what if you fly?”

There’s a platitude for everything:)

Being Right or Getting it Right?

Brene Brown recently asked if we are more interested in being right than getting it right. The answer is, in most cases, obvious. From mainstream to social media, being right is the goal. The only goal.

Rolling Stone magazine just ran a story about a hospital that treated so many ivermectin overdoses that gunshot victims had to wait untreated. It was a horrifying story except for one problem: it wasn’t true. They hadn’t treated ivermectin overdoses and no one went untreated. Woops. The magazine had to issue a “correction.”

For many years, I taught Rhetoric to high school juniors and seniors. If any of them had made that claim without backing it up, they would have seen a lot of red ink. And a grade that reflected lack of critical thinking. I don’t understand how we can teach courses like calculus, but not logic, in our schools. No one looks at the media and observes a lack of math skills.

The truth is that most don’t even notice the lack of logic. I’m not sure what class teaches our kids how to think, reason, build arguments, or critically analyze them. If we want to give an opinion, we simply state it and lump all dissenters into some name-calling category. It’s the same on both sides.

Oh that we could collectively stop, take a deep breath, and agree to some ground rules: One, acknowledge two sides to every issue. Second, every claim must have supporting reasons. The degree to which one’s argument is strong is the degree in which the reasons—and supporting backing–are strong. Third, apply the assumption of good will to others and don’t use vitriol.

And no matter the issue, we focus on getting it right. This most often involves recognizing that information is continually changing, “facts” take time to verify, and everyone has a different ground level of belief. Perhaps we could stop judging people as good or bad based on how their beliefs line up with our own.

Processing life can take a minute. At the core, we are all living, breathing, problem-swaddled people trying to do the best we can. The only way “being right” can work is if we surround ourselves with other “right” people. Ah, the love we feel for people just like us.

But feeling good isn’t love. It’s ego. To truly love another, we accept their value as a fellow human. To accept the vaxxer and anti-vaxxer, the one who is boycotting Texas and the one supporting the state’s ruling, the mask wearers and those who stand against.

I know people in all the various groups. And while the rhetoric on unsocial media is upsetting, the people behind it are likely trying to make sense of life. Perhaps fearful. Likely overwhelmed with it all. Human.

Being right is a quick process. We take a stand and practice name calling and finger pointing. Getting it right, however, is anything but quick. It’s a life-long process of learning to let go of our ego and learning to love those not like us. It doesn’t exclude arguing; it excludes name calling and bad words as substitutes for critical thinking. It excludes hatred.

For those that want to argue their way through issues, perhaps learning how to argue would be a first step. Put a conclusion on a piece of paper. List three reasons why you believe that to be true. Then find two or three pieces of support for those reasons.

I have no idea how to get it right these days. I just want to stop caring about being right. It’s time we examine our motives and decide where we stand on this. Do we care more about being right or getting it right? That question should make us all think.

Is it Red or is it White?

I was sitting with a soon-to-be 4th grader and discussing the story she wrote about traveling to Vixet, a secret planet near the moon. In it, she described a bird that was red if you looked at it from one direction, but a brownish white from another. I thought it a very interesting descriptive detail from an eight year old—the recognition that we can see differently depending on where we are standing.

She could have had the aliens arguing over whether it was red or white. But she simply observed that it would be different depending on perspective. The parallels to the political and cultural “birds” are everywhere. But my brain can’t get into all those issues. So I’ll stick to my little corner of the world. Because it happens here too.

My life is very different today than the dizzying, packed, full on busy I had a couple years ago. From one direction, I can decide it’s a little empty. I didn’t “do” much that day. In the past, if I didn’t do much, it meant I was sick. It was the only way out of busy.

But today, I walk, garden, read, write, knit, cook, and other things I enjoy. And sometimes, at the end of the day, I conclude that I did “nothing.” When I’m aware, I try to change that conclusion because I really enjoy the slow pace of life these days. If I don’t catch myself, though, that feeling of not doing anything can feel heavy.

I am finding that if I change my perspective, I can change my reality. Heck, it’s MY narrative; I can tell the story of the whitish brown side, or I can move and talk about the vibrant red. From one direction, I did nothing. But from the other, I had the most productive day.

I let my body recharge because yesterday felt busy.
I recovered from a night I didn’t sleep well.
I gave my body some “medicine” and took a walk in the sun.
I meditated and gave myself some mental health support.
I read a book just for enjoyment.
I tapped into creativity by writing or knitting.
I nourished my family by cooking a healthy meal.
I fostered calmness with some deep breathing.
I poured some energy into my attitude by resting.

This is so much better than answering the “what did you do today” question with “absolutely nothing.” I have definitely given that answer. And I think I made my body a little sad each time I did.

So whether we are on the secret planet of Vixet or sitting in our own backyard, let’s remember that there are many angles to view a “bird.” Being I can choose the perspective, I’m going to choose the one that’s most helpful and beautiful to me. I’m not a big fan of brownish white, so I’m going to make sure I bring vibrant color to my view. 

For anyone struggling with “doing nothing’ or coming up empty at the and of the day, maybe it’s time to see it differently. This is also important if we’re looking at the world through the media right now. It’s not all brown and white. Let’s find the color today. It’s out there.

Thank you Gracie, for reminding me that colors can change if I can change where I stand.  Even here, on Planet Earth. Especially here.

This Unraveling Life


I was out doing what I do every morning, walking and listening to a podcast. It was a discussion about whether the corona virus was spread naturally or through a lab leak. No agenda, just an understanding of both sides of the argument. As a former logic teacher, we are seriously lacking in this arena. 

When it was over, another one randomly started. It was Brene Brown discussing her book Gifts of Imperfection. I just needed something  to finish the walk. It wasn’t long, however, before she said something that got me.

I had just been telling someone that I thought I was having a midlife crisis at a post-midlife point. I couldn’t put my finger on what was going on, but I was unsettled in some major way. Brene began talking about midlife crises and I immediately latched on to the serendipitous nature of this conversation. I believe answers to our questions are always circling, always waiting to reveal themselves. 

She stated that she didn’t like the term “midlife crisis” because “midlife” suggests a particular point in life. The word “crisis”also suggests an emergency or critical juncture, something that needs to be fixed. This thing called “midlife crisis,” however, shows up when it does and is not really something to be fixed. She proceeded to call it an “unraveling,” and every cell in my being agreed with that word.

People may call what happens at midlife “a crisis,” but it’s not. It is so much more an unraveling. She claims this unraveling is “a series of painful nudges strung together by low grade anxiety and depression, quiet desperation, and an insidious loss of control.” Of everything.

And because it is low-grade, it can camouflage what’s going on. You can go through the day acting like all is well and no one has any idea. When there is a true “crisis,” people see the struggle and are able to offer help or at least validate the struggle. Unraveling is quiet, and because of that, it feels a little dangerous.

But here’s the thing we need to realize about this unraveling: We are not alone. Most of us eventually reach a point where our old lives look totally different from the ones we are now living, and so we think something wild and strange is occurring. But in reality, we are simply moving out of the ordered, scaffolded, relatively black and white worlds we had built over the past years.

When we are beginning our journey into adulthood, we need order. There are schedules to keep, habits to establish, families to build. There is a lot of discipline and structure needed to do these things well. It can feel a little auto pilot because there isn’t a lot of room in our lives for free style. We have seemingly less than a minute to make decisions as all the flying things come screaming towards us. 

But then life slows down a little. The kids don’t need round the clock care. Actually they don’t need much at all. They are out establishing their own lives. Jobs change. Maybe we retire. We have time to breathe and even, after so much change, time to think! And this is a little frightening. What do I do with all the things that never had a chance to take up space?

Fear is a natural response to change. But if we could see this change as growth, maybe we could give ourselves a little encouragement. There is time to search not only for deeper purpose, but also for deeper meaning. It takes courage to explore new territory.

The feeling of unraveling can feel chaotic, but if we can see it as a gentle undoing of things no longer needed, we can breathe a little easier. I recently took up knitting, and I can tell you that I have had to unravel a lot of projects.  But I don’t just randomly yank everything out. I gently pull the stitches out until I get to the part I want to reknit. I’m not a fan of this process, but it’s sometimes necessary and always worth it in the end.

So I am going through this unraveling thing, and I am not alone. There is no pattern for what this should look like, which makes it a bit unsettling. But it also presents an opportunity to just go with the flow of life, to sit back and enjoy the beauty of a new day, and know that the only goal of this season is to hold more love, kindness, and compassion. For ourselves and others. 

That’s enough meaning and purpose to last a lifetime.