Dear Graduate, Be Happy

Dear Graduate,
I can scarcely believe that you, my baby, are about to go out into the world on your own. At eighteen, after twelve years of school (fourteen counting Pre-K and kindergarten), I’m sure that you think you know everything you need to know about the world and how to navigate it. I am confident that you have learned enough to be successful in college, to find the right friends, and make the best choices. You have already proven that time and again. However, there are many lessons still to be learned. The lessons I feel you most need to concentrate on are the Five Simple Rules To Be Happy.

5 Simple Rules.jpg

I’m not sure who originally came up with the list.  A former yoga instructor of mine finished every class with the rules, and you can find them listed in books, blogs, and articles everywhere. They’re available on mugs, paperweights, and T-shirts. While these rules make sense, and I do want you to follow them, there are important things to remember about each of them. Read more

Oh, The Places You’ll Go (to borrow from Dr. Seuss)

Dear Katie,

1999 scrapbook15Where did the years go? It seems like just yesterday, I was being rushed into the operating room, Dr. Joe assuring me that everything was going to be okay. You’ve always had a way of doing things like that to us: changing the plot just when we thought we were all on the same page. You were due on March 3, 1999, but apparently, you weren’t ready yet. On March 2nd, Dr. Joe told me that you would not be making an appearance for at least another week. Of course, you do always try to be punctual, so whether my body was ready or not, you were determined to come on March 3rd. And you did.

 

July 4thIt didn’t take long to realize that you had a strong will and an aggressive, but at the same time, sweet personality. You always seemed to be at odds with yourself: shy but gregarious; strong-willed but obedient; inquisitive and skeptical but trusting; outwardly radiant and happy but inwardly scared and insecure. As Winston Churchill said, you have always been “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”

 

We watched you go from a smiling, confident toddler to a timid, hesitant little girl. And I began to worry. Tests showed that you are a genius, a child far beyond her years in intelligence but one who suffers from a severe lack of attention and focus. We were told you were an Einstein who would never succeed in school. Over the years, you curled into yourself like the potato bugs that amazed me as a child. We helplessly watched, praying for the right words, the right path on which to find you. What we couldn’t know, didn’t see, was that you were forging your own way. The student who was predicted to never understand math and be a poor reader has mastered Calculus and rarely looks up from a book. The girl who has a hard time opening her mouth in a crowd is a lector at Mass and a key player in school productions. The child we worried would always be a follower is president of one of the largest clubs in school and edior-in-chief of the yearbook.

DSC09050

DSC03407.JPGYour father and I thought we would spend your life watching out for you, steering you in the right direction, worrying about your every decision. But you’ve taught us to have faith, in God and in you. While we saw dark clouds and ominous skies, you, to quote Louisa May Alcott, were “not afraid of storms, for [you were] learning how to sail [your] ship.” While we saw a path that led into a dark and scary forest, you saw “two roads diverged in a wood,” and you chose the one that “made all the difference” (Robert Frost). As we held our breath and waited for the floor to drop out from under you, you held fast to your dreams, closed your eyes, and took a leap, many leaps, challenging yourself to take the harder class, go for a lead in the play, run for the highest office, and venture into places others dared not go. And you did it all with grace and joy.

Over the past two weeks, we have seen you accept one award after another, smile as the accolades piled before you, and shine for the world to see. On Thursday night, as you march across the stage, know that you can keep marching. No matter what obstacles you face, you will overcome them. No matter how rocky the road is ahead, you will persevere and succeed. Remember that Daddy and I are always here for you. We love you. We know that today and every day is your day. “Your mountain is waiting. So…get on your way!”

Love, Mom

Hall of Fame-001

What I was writing about one year ago this week: A Season for Changes.

Things I’ve read this week that are worth sharing:  According to Harvard Psychologists: Parents Who Raise “Good” Kids Do These 5 Things from Curious Mind MagazineYou’re Going To Miss It on Beauty Beyond Bones; and 11 Simple Changes I Made to Improve My Writing Habit by Michelle Zunter in The Huffington Post.

Amy Schisler is an award winning author of both children’s books and novels for readers of all ages.  She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her books, Picture Me  and Whispering Vines, are recipients of Illumination Awards, placing them among the top three inspirational fiction books of 2015 and 2016. Whispering Vines was awarded the 2017 LYRA Award for the best romance of 2016. Amy’s most recent novel, Island of Miracles, is now on sale.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me(2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017)

 

A Season for Changes

There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens. A time to give birth, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant. A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to tear down, and a time to build. A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them; a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces. A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak. A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.     Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

13254639_10207441691893823_7080817339069943742_o

We’ve all read the verses or at least heard the song.  Every school choir seems to sing it at some point.  It has been featured in movies and in books.  Many reflections have been written about the words attributed to Solomon (although the author is not actually identified).  But I believe there is a line that is missing, something that each of us experiences over and over throughout our lives – a time for change.

One could argue that every line in the passage is about change, and that is very true.  Birth and death bring change as do tearing down and building up.  Scattering and gathering can be catalysts for change as can seeking, losing, keeping, casting, rending, sewing, speaking, loving, etc.  We are faced with changes, both large and small, time and time again, every day.  I am reminded of this more and more each spring as graduation time is thrust upon us, whether we are ready or not. Read more