Love Actually is All Around

I went to one of my favorite spots today. It's the Starbucks in my cute little downtown - about 4 blocks from my house. There is lovely outdoor seating by a fountain we share with our sister city in France. It is my happy place. I go there to read, journal, relax. I haven't been for a few weeks, but made it a priority to go today and recharge before my busy event week at work. I sat outside on this beautiful Fall day. I soaked up the sun. I enjoyed coffee. I talked to a few strangers. I read parts of 3 books. I journaled. And I noticed caution tape. They are doing some sort of construction near the train tracks. It tainted my idyllic experience.  It made my happy place a little less happy. Later today, I went out for a run. Again, I saw caution tape. The sidewalks along a mile of my usual route  have been dug up for construction. Hmmmm... I've been thinking a lot lately about self-care. I am admittedly really bad at this, but getting better. When life is stressful

Below is a piece I wrote after attending a Cubs game with Dad on July 16, 2006.  I was 25-years-old. I had been a Cubs fan my whole life. It was something I was born with - like my brown hair and Polish name. There was no choice. My grandparents were Cubs fans. My parents were Cubs fans. I was a Cubs fan.  But you might say it was on July 16, 2006 that I really understood what that meant - the heartache and long-suffering. I remember Dad looking at me, smiling, and saying "I think you are finally getting it." Sure, I remember the NLCS in 2003. That broke my heart. Curses and Bartman and oh...they were so close!  But I kept believing, and I had optimistic hope. They'll get it next year. But in 2006, well...I got it. I mean, I still had hope. Every year. Some years hurt more than others. Some had more tears than others. But my hope had changed. It was resolute. Unwavering. It was in me. It was a part of me. I don't know how else to describe it. But I wouldn't sa

That's one of my favorite quotes from Forrest Gump.  I just felt like running.   I don't remember exactly when I started running. I think it was in late high school or early college. I was not athletic.  At all. I can't remember what compelled me to start running, other than I just felt like running one day.  I listened to a podcast on my way home today on running as a spiritual practice (definitely worth a listen) , and it made me think about why I run. Ever since that first run, I have had a love/hate relationship with running. Mostly hate, but also love for reasons that are hard to put words around.  Our relationship has been on again and off again. Hot and cold.  Sometimes we can't get enough of each other, and other times we go years without speaking. But we always seem to find ourselves together again.   So, why do I keep going back to it?  Here are a few reasons I was able to come up with while running today: Running teaches me to be ok with failure.  I am