13.1 BABY WooHoo!

Well, I did it!  I am now the proud owner of a 13.1 sticker on my car.  If there ever was a poster child for how NOT to train for a half-marathon, I would have to say I would be in the running.  Pun intended.  I don’t even know where to begin with the description of my barely there training!  This was not an endeavor that was a spur of the moment idea although at different points in the run, it certainly felt like I had spurs where they weren’t supposed to be and it wasn’t anywhere where a “glide” stick was supposed to go!

My friend Sharon hails from Louisville, Kentucky and it was her brilliant idea to sign up for this mini.  I’m not chastising her for this, we had certainly talked enough about wanting to do a half, no, it’s more that once you say you are going to do something, it is definitely going to get done!  No backing out, again, pun intended.

First of all, training, I thought, was going to be done together, but no, she up and gets a job an hour and a half away.  So, there goes the accountability factor.  But knowing I’m about to die if I don’t train, keeps me semi-motivated.  Semi because if it was cold, or dark or rainy or I was tired or any other excuse I could come up with, I took it!

Then there is the whole, eat clean regimen.  I don’t think I quite understood what that meant, because I carb-loaded the 13 weeks prior to the race, the entire time!  Not to mention the M&Ms that kept showing up in my pantry and the ice cream in my freezer.  I hadn’t eaten dessert in such a long time and now I can’t imagine a night without my MOOSETRACKs.  Again, pun intended!

Ok, enough already with the puns.  Race weekend was a blast.  We travelled to Indiana first to spend some time with Sharon’s sister.  What did we do?  We went to see Menopause the Musical and laughed our butts off and then the next morning, we went to the gym for a 20 minute workout on the treadmills.  All along the way, my cohort keeps telling me we are going to run this thing together and at my pace, which is the equivalent to some people’s walk speed.  We no sooner get on the treadmills and she starts with let’s quicken our pace!  Oh boy, I’m in trouble now, keeps flashing in neon colors in my brain!

That night, we head to Kentucky, my first trip there and I get to meet the rest of Sharon’s family, All of whom are GREAT people.  Sharon and I first stop by to do the packet pick-up and in Derby like fashion, I find I’m starting in Corral H.  One sister-in-law is in like Corral C, a nephew in D and the rest of the family runners in F.  The corrals were grouped by the time you thought you’d finish in.  Yeah, well, I immediately went from H to F, which again states the speed at which said cohort was capable of running – with even less training than me!  Seriously!

Race day dawns.  Now, I’m going to be a bit upfront about behinds here.  Running is a laxative for me, plain and simple.  No not relaxing, the other kind.  So 4 am dawns and Sharon is getting me up to get me going by taking me for a mile walk.  Performance anxiety hits and the only thing moving on me are my legs.  We get to the race site, nada!

About a mile or so into the race, I’m starting to scan the horizon for a place, but at least I have company in that someone else has the bladder the size of a pea.  Well, the port-o-potties, to be called POPS in the future, have a mile long wait and that ain’t happening.  When you’ve gotta go, it’s NOW.  So, a bit further down the road is a convenience store, and we duck in there and begin a 10 minute wait.  Well, some things can’t be rushed, if you know what I mean, so we begin yet again on the trek to mile 13.1.  Suffice it to say, that I felt like a dog marking its territory with all the POP stops we made, 5 I believe is the number I was told, I gave up counting!  Next time I will try Imodium.  By the way, if the Depends people want to start working on a new product…the existing product would chafe too much!

Once done the half, the clock said 3 hours and 30 some odd minutes, but that doesn’t reflect that our corral was loosed about 15 minutes after the A group…so we found out it was really 3:16 – hmmm….how appropriate, since “God so loved the world…”  We went looking for the rest of the family who finished quite well.  Teresa in Corral early, finished in 1 hour and 55 minutes.  Nephew J finished in 2 hours 12 minutes.  Brothers B and R finished respectively in 2:38 and 2:40.  Cohort S, didn’t even break a sweat and was hooting and hollering the whole time.  Doesn’t it make you upset when someone is smiling while you are cringing!  LOL!

At this point, now that we are finished, I’m looking for food and along the way, I grab a beer???  Not a normal habit for me at 10:30 am. And we head for her brother’s hot tub, again, didn’t I say I was the poster child for what NOT to do!  In fairness, I didn’t learn that until the next day, when I was reading about how to recoup from a marathon.  Anyway, I digress, I’ve changed into my bathing suit and am proceeding to step into the hot tub, but the step is a bit further down than normal and a bit slippery, so I kerplunk into the tub – spread eagle facing Sharon and her dad!  Ok, laugh, because I am.  I am only hopeful that the top of my suit didn’t go all caliwhompass.  I do know that Sharon’s Dad went inside for a bit afterwards.  Shock value???

Later that afternoon, we wind up back at the homestead and for the most part, sit and eat and enjoy one another’s company, although we were a bit subdued due to tiredness.

Sunday morning arrives and we have an early flight.  Not as early as the one we left to come here on, which was scheduled for 6 am, and we left the house at 4:30 only to find we were delayed an hour and a half!  No, this flight is on time, but my body is not working, meaning my legs and left Achilles don’t want to bend.  The moving sidewalk in Cleveland’s airport isn’t moving and neither are the escalators which for some unknown reason we decide to walk up instead of the steps.  The escalator steps are higher than normal and the climb was like Mt. Everest.  When one walks on the moving sidewalk, you stay on the right if you are going to stand.  Well apparently my carryon was too wide, so I had to keep moving because of all the numbskulls that followed us onto the non-moving escalator.  At this point I’m laughing so hard, I can’t even walk, so Sharon is pushing me from behind and I’m out of breath!  Did I say I use an inhaler to run?  Some chronic cough I’ve had since I’ve stop teaching???  Well, I literally am huffing and puffing up these steps, you would never have known we had completed a half-marathon.

So ends the tail, whoops the tale.  Just thought I’d share, anyone want to join us next year?  I will be letting Sharon go, to run her own race, so I’m looking for someone else to torment!  Any takers?

PS - My Wii Fit console just told me I'm overweight and unbalanced!  Nice to be home and insulted once again!

 

Looking up!  Maybe it should be looking ahead!

Barb

Puzzled?

Years ago, I took a quality picture (my opinion) and gave it to my kids as a gift.  The thing was, they had to put it together.  You see, I sent that print to a place where it was stamped into a jigsaw puzzle.  They were young, so I only had it made into 50 or so pieces.  The box I gave it to them in, was just an ordinary box so they had no idea what was inside and once opened, they didn’t have a clue to what the finished puzzle would look like. 

Grief, has now made my life a jigsaw puzzle.  And like the puzzle I gave the kids, I have absolutely no idea what the picture God has in store for me.  All I know is that my life seems to be chunked up into a gazillion pieces and none of them seem to fit together.   Bruce passed away October 1, 2012.  My Dad passed away March 5, 2013.  Did I mention a gazillion pieces?

This is not a-whoa-is-me, blog.  This is just my attempt to try and sort my pieces, aka my thoughts, out to see where the edges are and then once found, to then fill in the middle.  I know that the outside edge is surrounded by God.  He has every corner and every straight edge clearly defined, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have to put the pieces together. 

In grief, we are initially numb to the on goings around us.  This is a protective element in that even if we are aware that the thing we most dread is about to happen, we still can’t really comprehend how big of a hit we are about to take.  There are a host of other elements that can complicate this situation and emotionally we are just Lost In Space.  Danger Danger Will Robinson.  Sorry, I digressed back to a show I watched as a youngster. 

I’ve read articles, attended Griefshare classes, gone to Hospice coffees and even have met with a Grief Counselor.  All concur on the numbness element as being normal.  All have mentioned about finding a “new” normal.  Well, I wasn’t unhappy with the old normal and all I can say is that finding something I never wanted in the first place is beyond my capacity at the moment. 

I get up, I go through the motions, I even laugh, but for some unspoken reason, the two steps forward I take always winds up with a slap that sends me back three steps.  I could give up, but that isn’t an option either.  Why?  Because I know way too many people who are fighting the same battle Bruce did…the cancer battle, and I know they are looking at life as the precious gift it was meant to be and they long to hear the words, cancer free and then live with the specter of it with each sniffle, cough, ache or pain.  There are other illnesses that fit this bill, but since cancer is what struck us, it is what I choose to illustrate with. 

So where does one start finding the middle of the puzzle when the border has been interlocked?  When one is able to view the cover of the box, you might look for all the pieces of similar colors that when once grouped you slowly try to find the matching shape.  I am not trying to oversimplify here.  Because I can tell you right now, I can’t even seem to find anything that matches.  There have been days when the best I was able to do was to get up, get a cup of coffee and plunk down and stare at the television.  I remarked to the Grief Counselor the other day about a phenomenon called Chemo brain which affects your memory.  She came back with the quip about there being a grief brain and let me tell you the number of things I can’t seem to find, the most recent is a tub of peanut butter.  This is frustrating.  Grief makes your energy level go splat and then you lose things and have to expend energy trying to find them.  I gave up on the peanut butter.  I can say that it is not in my underwear drawer, but neither seems to be my underwear?  I’m not kidding.  I use to keep a pretty immaculate house, although eating off the floor is always questionable when one has two dogs! 

My sense of humor is intact, it just now has the added benefit of having tears sliding down my cheeks at the same time.  I asked the other day if my humor was a coping mechanism, although I’ve often used this same technique prior to my widowhood.  And just so you know, I also have spider veins.  I was getting too serious, for my own good!

This is never where I thought I would be, especially at this age.  My husband and I planned for it, but neither of us ever expected it to happen to us.  It isn’t why me, because he and I never considered ourselves to be that outstanding that life shouldn’t happen to us; the question as I see it, is What do I do now?   

I have options, but all require me to spend time allowing myself time.   One involves going back to school and pursuing my masters, which scares the ever living crap out of me.  So I put that off until I can focus and instead signed up to run a half-marathon, which literally has me in the bathroom every 2 or so miles.  The thing is, besides being bored some of the time, I find myself being exhausted most of the time?  This phenomenon is also “normal”, but as a friend has been reminding me, normal is a setting on a washing machine.  Although now I would have to beg to differ on that, since just getting new front loaders, there is every imaginable setting and then some, but nothing that says normal. 

Writing has always afforded me a window, or maybe it’s a mirror and so I start here.  I welcome thoughts, comments, and suggestions.  I am not unique, and whether I’m the first, the middle or the last to share an experience, I believe that it is the sharing that will allow each of us to move forward and grow. 

Looking up! 

 

Barb

Weeding your Garden

Setting the scene. How would you describe your world? No, not the external one, but the internal one? Have you ever given it much thought? Actually, whether or not you are aware of it, your internal world influences your external one!

Let me give you an example: you are in a cemetery and you see a lone figure sitting on the bench of a loved one. How do you view that? Does your mind automatically think, how sad? Might you be able to conjure up instead, how wonderful that even in perceived sadness, there is a moment of beauty and peace being shared?

I won’t venture to guess how anyone else’s mind works, I have my hands full with my own mind!!! But interestingly this morning as I was reading "Cross Roads" by Wm. Paul Young, he set a scene that more or less awakened me to the possibility of residing too long in darkness…by choice. I don’t want to give away too much of the book, I think it is a great one and it should be read by everyone. That said, he depicts in this particular scene three men, two of whom are Gardeners/wall keepers and the third man is the main character exploring his internal world. The internal world seems to be a heavily weeded place surrounded by great walls. As the two Gardeners approach the main character they announce to him their job descriptions. The main character is looking around and is astonished because all he sees are miles and miles of weeds. When he inquires to how they can be doing their job, one reaches out and pulls a rose complete with thorns and triumphantly exclaims, see, I just got one. The significance is in the perception. Because the rose was of color and different, the "Gardeners" seeing the difference in their "dark" minds establish the beautiful rose as a weed.

How prolific is that? Do we at times do the same thing? What colors are we missing because we choose to live in darkness, depression, maintaining walls around ourselves? In the middle of winter, when things seem bleak, do we notice that color still exists? I was just outside looking at the trees and I saw many shades of gray and I got excited. It is all in my perception but gray can also be beautiful, because it has depth.

In the midst of whatever is happening in one’s life, it all boils down to "our" choices. That statement might seem overly simplified. In a photography course I took this weekend, the instructor said that there will be a class on seeing color. Really, someone can instruct you to see color? He then also said, that once you are able to see color, your pictures become more than snapshots.

I have found that I’ve become good at a few things in life, but up to this point, everything has been captured as snapshots. I think God has finally made me aware that I need to see the beauty in the brilliant landscapes he has allowed in my life and to do this, the walls must come down and I need to do the weeding in my own garden, allowing for color.

Our world is beautiful, aged people likewise are beautiful. We fight to maintain our youth seeing wrinkles and gray hair as our enemies. I’m not of National Geographic caliber in my photography, but I truly appreciate the beauty captured in the pictures of older people, who have earned their wrinkles and gray hair. I see the beauty because I choose to look at age as a positive. The wrinkles like the tree bark tell me a story. It is about the journey and I’d rather spend my time rejoicing along the way instead of fighting against time.

Looking up!
Barb

The concept of God - multidimensional

The concept of three in one, God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, all being one and the same just smacked me upside the head. I truly could never conceive how this was possible, agreeing with it not out of understanding but just because it was the definition given. For whatever reason, today I understand the clarification. It was an aha moment, or for some a Duh, where’ve you been one.

To break it down in its simplest form, and in the way I came to understand it, think first and foremost relationally. And this seems to be the spot most of us can’t comprehend. We have this far off concept of God being up there in heaven issuing orders instead of actually His residing in and through us. But back to thinking relationally and in human context…I chose to look at marriage, where 2 become 1. This just means instead of operating on a self-centered basis, when two enter marriage they combine their assets, their outlook on life and more; even while continuing to operate sometimes individualistically.

I was married for 30 years until my husband passed away a short time ago. I never felt "controlled" by him, and hopefully he never felt controlled by me, but in saying that, I will also mention that in decision making areas, we would discuss the options and then agree or agree to disagree on the process we would follow. When we agreed, we were thinking like mindedly and in essence as one. To further this analogy, even when we agreed, one of us would take the lead in accomplishing whatever it was we were pursuing.

There is first God as the Father. Then, Jesus as the Son, who became man so that we could have a relationship with God, and the One who established the bond of God and man through the understanding of the troubles, and hurts we suffer. Finally there is the Holy Spirit as the part of God who resides in us.

Where our trouble comes is that relationally many if not most of us want to be THE god in our own lives. We want what we want, when we want it, how we want it and then as if that isn’t good enough, we want everyone to agree with us. Unfortunately, many make their lives revolve around their own god status and then wonder why chaos ensues.

God is not our financial well being, our careers, our possessions or even our popularity. God really couldn’t care less about those things. I just started reading a book by the author of the Shack, Wm. Paul Young. This new book, "Cross Roads" uses an illustration of a financially well off man, who trusts no one and who’s belief system is so out of whack that the concept of God is thought of as a children’s story. What’s real? What’s the truth? Do you know?

As the book opens, this man has a traumatic episode and so happens to meet up with a "Jesus" like man while his life hangs in limbo (coma). He is surveying the sites he encounters and sees utter desolation and condemns it. He is shocked as he finds out that this desolation is really the internal condition of his soul. What is written so graphically makes me cringe to drive by abandoned areas left to ruin. Next time you are in your car, and drive past such a place, internalize it and then ask, is that what my soul looks like?

You know what I miss most in my widow-hood? It is the connection between Bruce and I, a connection that was 32 years in the making. Is that part of my life over? I don’t believe so, but unfortunately many people aren’t willing to "connect" and share, we have grown accustomed to self-centeredness, after all, if we don’t fend for ourselves, no one else will! Will they? I don’t believe that too be true, but rare is the person willing to open up their heart to just anyone. Yet, Jesus lived that way. He didn’t hold a high-ranking job, He wasn’t popular, He didn’t own anything and yet He was always giving…of Himself. This is what is meant about His being relational. He chose to be part of the community surrounding Him. That is what I still yearn for, to feel "a part" of something. It is difficult after 30 years to be the sole voice in decisions, it isn’t that I can’t, it is more that I miss the sharing.

Getting back to "Cross Roads" and the bleakness of where the character finds himself, he asks a very pertinent question "did he send the people away, or did they leave of their own accord?" The answer was very insightful, when we don’t deal with (death) and I’m substituting for clarity the word (turmoil) everyone in your life becomes a catalyst for pain or dead to you.

Is there a difference between truth and reality or is it a mind game? What makes something either true or real? Is it the same for everyone? Is it fair to judge someone else on his or her truth or reality? What would give us the right to do so?

I think as long as we operate on the individualistic basis, the gardens of our souls will wind up looking chaotic and we will feel a yearning for something we can’t explain and then consequently the need to continue trying to fill that void with more. More of everything we don’t need or even want, even though at a moment’s notice we believe we do both want and need it. What we need is to feel a part of…necessary because…but we mistakenly believe that this is fulfilled by humanness. It is sad for those who believe that to be true, because it was NOT why we were put on this earth.

Our purpose, if we CHOOSE to accept it, is to love others. That is it. If we love others, as much as we love ourselves, there wouldn’t be disagreements, conflicts, judgments etc. God isn’t a "freak" with multiple personalities. He is in community, a bonding of three very unique beings, who are capable of thinking; feeling and relating on the levels that we can each individualistically comprehend.

God, the Father is perfect, the only perfection there is.  Jesus the son, is the conduit that links our problems, sufferings, our joy, in essence our humanness to God.  The Holy Spirit, was the everlasting bond given since Jesus had to die for us to be made acceptable.  You can't negate what was, just because the role changes...I was married, I am a Mom.  The changes made in my roles in each of these two circumstances don't nullify them, it makes my person multidimensional.  And That is the point, I'm trying to make about God!

New Year Resolutions

New Year’s resolutions. Did you make any? I was writing (well typing) in my journal and it dawned on me the insignificance of resolutions, especially ones powered by our own might.  You know the ones we break 2 days after making them!

In Jeremiah 29:11 it is stated that "I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future."

Well, how many of us, even the most well intentioned of us, make our own plans and then ask God to approve them? Hmm…I’m guilty. There’s a subtlety about what was written here. Whose plans? My plans. And therein lies the problems. We are not promised life without difficulties. Trials make us grow. Pruning takes place.

In my morning devotional it was pointed out to me that a good gardener severely cuts back a rose bush to allow for beautiful bountiful new growth. For those who are not familiar with gardening to this extent, which is more beautiful? Lots of blossoms or spotty blossoms with green leaves on sticks? One of the lessons my Mom taught me about gardening was that you have to cut back the dead wood that is in a plant, so that the plant rejuvenates new shoots. Most time this severe cutting back looks like a bad haircut and I’ve certainly had my fair share of those.

Well, we too are pruned as we journey through life. God is the master Gardener of our lives. He prunes what is not producing fruit in order that new shoots might blossom. Pruning hurts and still we hang on to what we know rather than experience the adventure God has in store for us. One might look at this and think I’m wise; don’t be fooled, I hang on to what I know just as everyone else does!
Pruning doesn’t mean something taken was bad, I tend to look at it as if what was pruned fulfilled it’s purpose. I just finished reading a book by W. Bruce Cameron; entitled "A Dog’s Purpose" I highly recommend it. The book’s main character is a dog that travels through life defining what it is here to do. It makes me look at my own dogs in a new light. To say anything more would be to give too much detail and ruin the book. I don’t believe the premise is the same for people, but the search for meaning and purpose is. I will say this though, there is pruning going on throughout this story.

All in all, my point is that we should be open first to God’s plan for us. How do we do this? We settle ourselves down, we become quiet and we ask to be shown the way. Sounds simple enough? Unfortunately the directions are simple, but hearing God takes practice. Does a musician just sit down and play beautifully? No, they practice and perfect the score they are playing. Same with an athlete. Practice is continual.

We are all in a New Year. I didn’t make any resolutions. I find myself knocked for a loop with the pruning last year brought my way, BUT, I am confident that God has a plan for me and in HIS time, as long as I am open to hearing Him, I will be lead to where it is and what it is that I’m supposed to be doing. Just remember we are human beings, not human doings. Be first and the means to the doing will be provided.

Looking up!
Barb

New Year - Happiness vs. Joy, it all depends where you are looking

A new year started just a few short hours ago, I was in bed feeling blue. So much has happened this past year and honestly I haven’t wanted to nor have I allowed myself to really deal with the ongoings of this past year, I've kept busy. New year…new beginnings, a chance to start over, if we choose to do so. The thing is, if we live one day at a time, and as I read yesterday in a daily devotional, each and every day can be a new year…because we should be living one day at a time. God only gives us each day and it is up to us how we choose to live it!

I have had the great fortune of gleaning insight from a friend working the 12 step program of AA. And in the third step, there is a prayer that goes: "God, I offer myself to Thee, to build with me and do with me Thy wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, so that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties so that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy power, Thy love and Thy way of life. May I do Thy will always.

This prayer is so chocked full of positives and I have often said to this friend, that it is a shame that this 12 step program is kept more or less a secret, because it has such a insightful impact on every life.

This year, THIS day…I need to offer myself to God and let Him direct me along the path of life. Every detour taken, is one of my desire to lead. In Matthew, Jesus states that we are to come to Him, all that are weary and in need of rest. I can’t speak of anyone else, but I need that rest. My burdens this past year certainly showed me MY need to follow and trust in God, because self-sufficiency didn’t nor couldn’t carry me.
Jesus states that we need Him to release us from our burdens, "relieve me of the bondage of self!" I equate this to mean that as a team player, I can’t carry the team alone. This is so evident in so many marriages where one person in the marriage believes that their needs are more important than someone else’s (in this case their spouse). Hindsight is such a great teacher. Losing Bruce and now being "in charge" of my own life is a scary proposition. I no longer can point a finger of blame if "MY" life isn’t working the way I think it should. I need to then remember that I am part of a larger team, God’s team. I realized that Bruce’s promotion to the heavenly team means that I might be sitting the bench, but like a journeyman learning the ropes, I still have some apprenticing to do until such a time as God calls me to "pro" status. My focus on self, keeps me in bondage. In asking God to relieve me of this bondage, my life’s problems and how He allows me to deal with them, hopefully will point others to the victorious way God wants me to live.

Is it a happy new year? Joy comes from God, He is the Light and if I choose to continue to dwell in a darkened state, it is only because I choose not to look up! His promise of taking on His yoke is one of rest which is peace. Peace and trouble can’t co-exist. What do you choose?

Looking up and Happy New Year!
Barb

Light

John 8:12 states that Jesus said to the people, "I am the Light of the World. If you follow me, you won’t be stumbling through the darkness because you will have the light that brings you life.
It’s been 2 months since I called hospice in for my husband. A signaling to the outside world and an admittance to myself and our kids, that Bruce’s time on this earth was drawing to a close. Since that time, I have felt enveloped in a soul darkness. Last evening as I stood outside in the chilled, no make that downright cold air of the night, the moon was full and the sky was clear and I was enthralled by the picture depicted. I wanted to capture that picture, to gaze on it as needed.

Various members of my family have had the good fortune of having "Bruce" sightings, of which I am envious. My best friend is moving ahead with her career. And I’m left to wonder, what will become of me! I am in a way, envious of those who have life, while I sit and wonder about my own. I understand that this is the time that I am to grieve, but in busying myself with the periphery of life, I’ve also blocked myself from the light.

This morning, I awoke, grabbed a cup of coffee, my Bible and a blanket – it is still cold outside, after all… and sat in one of my rockers. The verse that kept coming to me was "I am the Light of the World…" I sat there taking in the sunrise and as the day dawned, the meaning of that verse took shape in my mind.

God gave us his Son. Humans only understand the world in the tangibles. Son = Sun. It is always when simplifying and becoming childlike that we are able to draw close to God. As I sat out there freezing my butt off, I watched as the sun formed its path, not across the sky, but across the dew on the grass and the fallen leaves on the ground. The sparkle of the sun on those leaves lit up the pathway in my mind. The only commandment is to love. Love others, but what about loving self?
Following Christ is searching and finding the simplicity of following the trail created by the sun. Sun = Son.

I looked upwards at this point and scanned a nearby tree. The bark was interesting, (oh no my daughter would be thinking….here goes Mom and her discussion of treebark! LOL). What I also took in were the scars along the way, where dead branches had fallen off and were healed over. Midway up there was a solitary twig with a leaf on it…reaching for the sun. When my gaze hit the top of the tree crowned in its slowly fading glory, it hit me. The Light that leads to life. Even the trees get it!
Jesus said to the people, "I am the Light of the World. If you follow me, you won’t be stumbling around in the darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life. The operative word is "if". "If" a seemingly insignificant word that opens up the way for us. It is a choice that allows for possiblity.

Looking up!
Barb