Archive for August, 2015

A Few Thoughts on Living Light

By Kathy NickersonAugust 16th, 2015mercy, Uncategorized2 Comments

 

Blue camper

What do you think of the Tiny House movement? I must admit I’m intrigued by these ultra-small houses-on-wheels. Some of them are more luxurious than the average vacation condo. Others are a bit too rustic for my taste. They are all quite creative with space and storage.

Of course, tiny houses are nothing new. My in-laws had one back in the seventies. They called it a camper, and they lived in it nine months at a time, all over the country.

I admit tiny houses feed into my yearning for a simple life. I’m a sucker for any magazine or website that offers “creative storage solutions.” Or articles on “how to organize your life forever.” It is the same drive that leads me to the purse aisle every time I visit a store. I’m always convinced I will eventually find the perfect bag with just the right amount of pockets in exactly the right configuration to hold only the items I must have at my fingertips on any given day.

I don’t think my husband and I will be moving into a tiny house, though. We already downsized from a two-story, five-bedroom with a veranda to a two-bedroom home in a four-plex.

It took me about ten years to accept the fact that I don’t have enough space for everyone to come home for Christmas. But I do love the simplicity of living with less. And every few months I go on a purge and lessen us just a bit more. (Does that sentence even work?)

Which makes me wonder what is drawing so many of us to this lifestyle of tiny houses and limited wardrobes. I do have a theory, of course. Maybe, what we are really craving with these clean lines and clear spaces is something spiritual. Maybe, what we really want to do is unclutter our souls.

That’s a movement I could get into.

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Better than being Homecoming Queen

By Kathy NickersonAugust 12th, 2015Friendship, happy endings, writing2 Comments

majestic crown

Among the distinctions I hold which mean absolutely nothing in the whole scheme of things is this one: I was the first Homecoming Queen in our high school. Our little school had never done homecoming before. And, evidently, we didn’t know it was supposed to be a popularity contest. So we held a competition where faculty and staff interviewed the candidates and then selected a winner. That is how a lowly freshman stole the crown from all the upperclassmen.

A lot of wonderful and way more important things have happened in my life since then, but I’d be a liar if I told you that moment doesn’t still hold a bit of a thrill in my heart. I mean, come on, I got to wear a princess gown. And they gave me flowers. And a crown.

The moment I remember most, though, was even better than those. It was the moment when my friend, Judy, told me how happy she was for me. I think it was the first time I ever understood what it meant to really celebrate someone else’s success. I saw it in her face. I heard it in her voice. I felt it in my heart. Pure joy with no competition, no comparison, no gosh-I-wish-it-were-me.

I’ve had the privilege of feeling that a lot lately.

For my friend Josh when he started having publishing success and then went to his first writers conference.

For my friend, Jillian, when her husband published his first children’s book and started working on an amazing series. (Which you should support.)

For my favorite daddy-blogger when he sent me sneak-peeks of some upcoming projects.

And, for my friend, Judy, when she took brave, new steps into the writing world that we have both loved since we walked into Mrs. Epperson’s first-grade classroom together several decades ago.

It turns out the principle is true. Celebrating the success of someone you love really is better than getting your own crown. Let’s have a party here on the blog this week. Who do you want to celebrate today?

 

 

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Why I Love/Hate/Love My Treadmill

By Kathy NickersonAugust 3rd, 2015mercy3 Comments

colorful bikes

What I do on my treadmill in the corner of the bedroom every morning probably wouldn’t even qualify as exercise to my friend, Stacy. She rides her bike across entire states and hikes up mountains with her daughters.

But, those thirty minutes on the treadmill kind of save my life. Or, at least, my sanity.

I know I could push harder. I could add more incline. Do a few interval sprints. Instead, I mostly walk. And read a book on my tablet. I do sweat, which is my only exercise goal in the mornings.

I think of every excuse to stay away from the treadmill. Because I mostly hate it. My legs ache. My feet hurt. My body does not want to be pushed.

But then I remember how I will feel mid-morning if I haven’t exercised. And I tie my shoes and get to it.

I’m not looking for the runner’s high, but I do need the release of endorphins that come with a bit of exercise. My mind clears. My attitude lifts. My heart cheers. (Once I can breathe again)

And, I need that help. It may surprise you, Dear Reader, to know that even an eternal optimist needs an attitude adjustment some days. Okay, most days. And just a little exercise will do that for me.

I know it probably isn’t enough. I’m sure I could do more. But for this season of life, it is what I can manage. So, I do it. And I don’t beat myself up over how slow I go or how easy I work. Instead, I give myself credit for showing up. And I feel quite proud, actually.

Where have you been showing up lately? Give yourself some credit for that.  And stop comparing yourself to the friend who climbs mountains. I expect she is proud of you, too.

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