The Invitation

When the email came through, I had two simultaneously competing thoughts "Oh my Dog. This can't be real - SQWEEE!" and "Holy COW - what the hell have I gotten myself into?"

The first I'd heard of Project Purpose was in an email that came through my email on May 30th. The subject line professed

"Change your lifestyle! Apply today for Project Purpose."

Like most people with an active email address, spam arrives on occasion professing that the life changing solution to all of my problems or what ails me lies within - read all about it!

I very nearly marked the email as spam and went about my day. What stopped me was that the sender was the Fort Collins Coloradoan.  What most saw when they opened the email was this:

What I saw was this:

Going against every learned 'rule' about unsolicited emails that offer what seems too good to be true, I clicked on the link to apply and found the survey intriguing and thought provoking. When asked, Husband said that he thought sounded very interesting and to go for it. So, I started filling out the application.

My responses to the survey questions seemed to flow without hesitation and before I had a second thought, I hit the 'Send' button.  (Stay tuned for another post on those.)

And then I read what I'd written. The truth of it all. That while I'd like to think that I'm in relatively good health, I am not. I haven't been in many years.

I am driven, focused, and strive to always do 'better'. Better than I did last time, better than anyone asked for, better than even I thought possible. My interests are vast, my enthusiasm limitless, and my desire for 'one more minute' overwhelming at times.

But all of that has come at a cost to myself. I'm a mama. In the time since earning that title, I've had to chose between sleep and exercise. Sleep won out and over the years and I've lost my fitness. Healthy eating habits were often sacrificed due to financial or time constraints.

Even though it's summer I'm still busy with the kiddos, work, volunteering and living life at a more relaxed pace so I'd forgotten about the application and figured that since we'd not heard from Mind + Body, that we hadn't been selected. But, sixteen days after hitting that button we got the news that Holy COW! The team of Karl and Amy was selected to participate in Project Purpose!

It's been a whirlwind of excitement and activity, and I am still in disbelief that we are embarking on this fabulous journey!  I'm filled with nervous energy and disbelief that this is for real, and downright terrified that I'm sharing so much personal information in print and on the net. I mean, who really wants to share with the world how much they weigh and all other stats. Gack!

I'm looking forward to deciding on a team name, seeing how our team picture turns out and read the first installment of our Project Purpose. I hope that you join us as we move through this adventure and strive to reach our goals!

Context is Everything

"I was so frustrated, I just wanted to grab their balls and squeeze them until they popped!" 

At work there is a list called 'Things Overheard during Finals Week'. It was started by one of our department counselors who has a most uncanny knack for walking into a room where a single sentence, taken out of context, can mean a something entirely different than what was intended. The list, while easily overlooked is quite funny and has grown to be quite long. 

The first line of this entry is one such example of something that could be found on the 'overheard' list. I was talking about the kids playing in the house with those irritating bouncy balls that nearly every grocery or discount store has in those giant cages that inexplicably draws your kid to them resulting in an ear piercing and insanity inducing 'BbbbuuuuT ma-MAAAAA PLEEEEEeeeeeeeeezzzzzeeeee....' as they beg for the one in the VERY MIDDLE until you are finally worn down or no longer want to be subjected to the piercingly judgmental glares of passing strangers as they respond to your 'precious' offspring howling for the millionth time.

Their bouncy ball games have resulted in overturned glasses of water, knocked over plants, swinging chandeliers, and one very sentimental and expensive rice paper watercolor being very nearly shucked from the wall. The one that I bartered for and then carried in my lap all over China, stored in here-and-there living situations for 20 years and finally was able to collect enough pennies to have it framed.

And then the kids began playing sports in the house. 

I was not (and am not) impressed by their athletic abilities in this situation.

Whenever I post an entry, it takes me forever to edit, update, and ensure that the entirety of the story's context can be found within the post to alleviate confusion or possible misunderstandings.

There have been many occasions on FaceBook or other 'on the fly' social media where my posts have resulted in harsh responses by those who don't know me well, or read an entry thru the filter of their own lives and don't see the subtle wry humor that I'm prone to. I'm trying to break that habit of over writing my blog posts and adopt more of a well written, but in-the-moment form. I need to write, I need to create, and over-editing stifles that.

Please gentle reader - if you happen to read something that gives you pause or causes you to 'see red' and drives you to respond - I invite you to compose and post a comment. Lets start a conversation - but I also ask that you 'step back' for a moment and see if it's there is context that might be missing - maybe you don't know me well, we don't share the same type of humor, or your life's story brings an entirely different context to the one you are reading.

As for the kids' balls, time solved my problem. 

That and a firm "I really Love that you are having so much fun with your balls, but those need to be played with OUTSIDE, please do so."

One popped when it was thrown against the sharp edge of a cottonwood trunk, the other when a child jumped on it in a demonstration of how 'look mom, it won't pop!'

And when it did, I comforted said child. Kissed his boo-boos and wiped away tears as we chatted about the poor ball.

Inside though, I did a virtual arm-pump and silently mouthed 'YES!'