Mission Statement Part Seven: Detours

In my Journey through Life, I will:

Appreciate the detours: Learn from mistakes, obstacles and challenges

 So I’m going to a meeting at a place I have never been before in, say, Albuquerque.  I tune into my left brain to lead me there.  I go to Google Maps and check it out–nearest intersection, written directions.  I even go to the “street level view” and look around for familiar landmarks, like McDonald’s or Starbucks.  On the day of the trip, I load the destination in my GPS and off I go.  As I approach my destination, I find myself in the middle of a construction zone, with orange barrels and detour signs.  The left-brained me is thrown into a tizzy:  Am I going to be late?  Do I follow the detour signs?  Do I recognize any of these streets?  Why didn’t they warn us about the construction?  (Of course, like juniper pollen in springtime, there is always major construction happening in Albuquerque.)  Where are the Manzano’s (i.e., east)?  I decide to follow the detour signs to see if they get me back on track, or at least to a place where I can stop, study my map, and allow the GPS to recalculate my route.  I implore my right-brain to gather the stillness around me, and before I know it, I am at my destination.

Detours happen all the time, because change happens all the time.  Sometimes the detours are major, where I feel like the ball bearing in a Labyrinth game, dodging the holes and somehow getting to the end.  Sometimes I will fall into the hole and have to start all over again, reaching the end with a few cuts and bruises, older and wiser but still at my goal.

Other times, they are speed-bumps that do no harm if I am going the speed limit.  But if I’m going too fast, I may do damage to the suspension, or I may just spill my coffee.  In all cases, I try to learn from the detour.  I’ll find an alternate route if I can; sometimes I’ll need to create an alternate route.  From this creation comes innovation, and from innovation comes a fresh outlook in an otherwise-routine viewpoint. 

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4 

Have you run into a detour lately? How did you decide to handle it or yourself? Tell me in the comments below.

About Me:

I am a Writer-Editor for the federal government, and a future best-selling author. (That’s in my vision board.)  I am also a creator of hand-crafted items, such as rosaries, beaded jewelry, and hand-woven and crocheted scarves and prayer shawls.  I am one of 12 siblings, and I co-parent a menagerie of cats, dogs, fish and a too-talkative parrot.

Mission Statement Part Six: U-Turn Permitted

In My Journey through Life, I will:
Make a U-Turn when needed: Change directions to get back on a safe route.

An Icelandic proverb says, “A wise man changes his mind, a Fool never will.” During my formative years as a manager, I had a supervisor who criticized me for being wishy-washy, for too-easily changing my mind when I had made a decision. I never forgot that conversation, mostly because it made me decide who NOT to emulate in my Journey through Life. In her business persona, she was rigid and autocratic, and I vowed never to convey that message to the people I led. If someone had a better idea, a better approach, I accepted the change in direction for the sake of the team. I also vowed not to live or work in an environment that was rigid and autocratic.

George Bernard Shaw said, “Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.” I have learned an important life lesson about being a change agent: if I was going to create progress in my life or in my organization, I was going to have to evaluate and implement change.

I have had to make significant U-Turns when my life seemed to be out of balance. When I drive using a GPS and I miss a turn, one of the messages I hear is, “Make a legal U-turn when it is safe to do so.” That instruction contains two important components: the U-turn must be legal, and I need to execute the change safely. That is, I have to follow the rules (either society’s rules or the rules of my own inner compass), and I have to be sure not to knowingly hurt myself or anyone else when I make the change.

One of my U-turns took place in 1981. The winter of 1981 was brutally cold in the Baltimore-Washington area where I lived and worked. That winter, there were more than 20 days with at least an inch of snow, as well as ice storms. I came down with pneumonia in December and had to cancel my Christmas trip home. For almost all of the month of January 1982, the high temperature was in the twenties, with wind chill below zero. On January 13, 1982 Air Florida Flight 90 crashed into the 14th Street Bridge in Washington, DC. President Ronald Reagan had taken office that year and, as a federal worker, we implemented yet another sweeping reorganization that accented the four presidential transitions that I had worked through (Nixon, Ford, Carter, and Reagan). This one was marked with a reduction-in-force; as a senior-level human resources employee, I had to sign off on many of the RIF actions, usually the lower-paid workers. I also had to sign the hiring papers for the political appointees. My compass was going haywire; I could not reconcile laying someone off with one pen stroke, and satisfying a political commitment with the next. It was time to go home, I decided, and I left a lucrative career. Make a legal U-turn when it is safe to do so.

Changing directions to get back on a safe route carries with it the responsibility of choice. Several of my important U-turns required days, weeks, or sometimes months of research, contemplation, and prayer before I chose among the alternatives. I asked the nagging “What if…” questions. What if I fail? What if he/she/they don’t like me? What if it hurts? What if I run out of [insert thing here] before I finish? What if I can’t find another job?

What if I succeed? What if they love me? What if I’m happy again?

What if today is my last day?

A Clear Line

Back in the 1960’s, the telephone on Del Norte Lane was a land line.  I can still see it on the wall in the dining room, and I still remember the phone number.  The telephone company was Mountain Bell, located in a large, windowless building on East Alameda Street.  I worked as a directory assistance operator for Mountain Bell in the summer after I graduated from high school, and was later promoted to traffic operator. 

Picture Ernestine: “One ringy-dingy, two ringy-dingies. Is this the party to which I am speaking?”

In those days, a person could call the operator and, with a sufficient explanation, ask for the line to be cleared. Then, the telephone operator would dial in to the busy land line and say, “This is the telephone company. We need you to clear the line for an emergency call.”

Lately in my meditation and prayer, I have been working on my clear line to God – that place where you just know like you know that He is listening.  I pray, “Not my will but your will be done” (Luke 22:42), and I pray for a clear line.

I also work on my clear line to the Archangels.  I talk to St. Michael, the Archangel of miracles and technology, for protection from harm (especially while traveling), for protection from fear, and for guidance with my life purpose.  I talk to St. Raphael for my health and those who have health problems.  I talk to St. Gabriel when I need to set my goals for the future, when I need to communicate clearly, and when I sit down to write.  I talk to St. Uriel when I need to focus my mind and come up with the solution to a dilemma.  I know there are other Archangels, but these are my four guys.

Maggie teases me that God always listens to me.  Well, it’s not always evident, but He has responded to my prayers, manifested amazing results and messages, and provided me with wisdom and understanding for why something didn’t happen as I had hoped.  It usually happens after a period of quiet meditation and prayer to clear the line.  I know that God and the Archangels can only intervene if I ask them, so I ask.  And I never forget to give thanks.

Creamy Potato and Calabacitas Soup

Creamy Potato and Calabacitas Soup

In northern New Mexico, a favorite side dish is “Calabacitas”, a combination of squash, corn, onion, and green chile.  At the Pantry Restaurant, their version is a creamy version that we love. We also love Twice-Baked Potato Soup.  So we thought, “Why not combine the two?” This is a great comfort food for cold winter nights.  It is meatless, but you can add chopped ham or rotisserie chicken. 

Creamy Potato and Calabacitas Soup 

Prep time: 15 minutes

Cook time: 45 minutes

Yield: 6-8 servings

Ingredients:

3 1/2 cups peeled and diced potatoes

1/3 cup diced celery

1/3 cup finely chopped onion

1/3 cup carrot, diced (optional)

1 cup diced zucchini squash (about one medium)

1 cup frozen corn

3 1/4 cups chicken broth

1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste

1 teaspoon ground white or black pepper, or to taste

5 tablespoons butter

5 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 cups milk (2% milk works fine)

1/2 cup chopped green chile, or to taste

Instructions

Combine the potatoes, celery, onion, carrot, squash, corn and chicken broth in a stockpot. Bring to a boil, then cook over medium heat until potatoes are tender, about 15 to 25 minutes. Stir in the salt and pepper and green chile.

In a separate saucepan, melt butter over medium-low heat. Whisk in flour with a fork, and cook, stirring constantly until thick, about 1 minute. Slowly stir in milk so that lumps don't form and until all of the milk has been added. Continue stirring over medium-low heat until thick, 4 to 5 minutes.

Stir the milk mixture into the stockpot, add the green chile, and cook soup until heated through.

Top with cheddar cheese, chives, and/or chopped bacon if desired. Serve immediately.

Notes

Add 1-2 cups chopped ham or pre-cooked rotisserie chicken in the first step (while cooking the vegetables.)

Source: adapted from Allrecipes.com

Remembering Spanky

Today, on her 19th birthday, Spanky Murray-Sanchez crossed over the Rainbow Bridge, joining JC, Knickie, Morgaine, Jerry, and Gwinnie.

Spanky was a Jack Russell Terrier, half smooth and half rough.  Dr. Phil Hinko, her Vet, always laughingly asked, “What’s this?” when he saw her funny coat.  This morning, Dr. Hinko and his wonderful staff provided a soft pink mat, a lit candle, and gentle assistance as we helped her transition to the Rainbow Bridge.

She was born in Santa Fe, and was originally named Baby Cakes. When we went to pick her out, she picked us out, bringing us a tennis ball and demanding we play with her now.  We named her Spanky, the nickname Dad Byron gave his youngest daughter, Maggie.  It was the Easter weekend when she joined our family; we took her to meet my niece, Patrice Vigil, who was five, and she fit nicely in Patrice’s Easter basket.

Spanky loved her Unca Zeo, and he (my brother Leo) loved her right back. Before the other dogs joined the family, Spanky would get so excited when he came to visit.  Leo and Spanky played with the tinker light, with Spanky running back and forth across the passageway between the living room and the den.  When her Unca Zeo came to visit, Spanky didn’t care about anything or anyone but him – she sat next to him and wouldn’t go outside to do her business unless he went with her.

Since her days as a puppy, Spanky spent every evening lying next to me in a lounge chair, wrapped up in her plaid blanket like a burrito.  I always had to buy a lounge chair that was wide enough for Spanky to fit comfortably.  In addition to being the cuddle-Mommie, I am the treat-Mommie, so Spanky followed me around, lying at my feet in the kitchen as I fixed dinner, waiting to catch a stray morsel or two, or waiting patiently for a piece of chicken jerky.  Maggie is the toys-Mommie, so Spanky would chase tennis balls and the tinker light whenever she could coax her Mommie Maggie to play. (In her younger days, she was relentless!)  She slowed down as she got older, and eventually couldn’t run after the tinker.  She would bark at it when the other dogs and cats chased it, but she knew she could only watch.

As the years went by, she was joined by the Munchkin cats (there are now nine: Toby, Ashley, Daisy, Lucy, Abe, Max, Ozzie, Thea, and Simon); Echo, the Jack Russell Terrier that came from Maggie’s Mom; and the Vizslas, Buddy and Tricie.

Today, she left her furry siblings behind to take care of her Mommies, and she began chasing the stars as they dart across the Rainbow Bridge, with the energy of Baby Cakes.