Holiday Memories

So, at this count I have had 55 Christmases. Not that I can remember them all, but since it is a bit quite around her, it is kind of fun to see what Christmases I do remember. And, actually, I remember many more Christmas seasons than I thought I would. You see, I don’t really remember very many details from past history.
If you were to ask me my favorite gifts from the past I would tell you I have two fond memories. Two simple gifts that come to mind with warm memories.
The first happened while we lived in Twin Falls.  I can’t remember if it was 1986 or 1987, but it was the year that Lori surprised my with a song she had written. I don’t remember the words. It was a pleasant tune, and she had a difficult time singing it amongst the tears. I loved it that she really gave of herself, as difficult as it was. That memory jumps out first.
The second favorite gift I received just two or three years ago. Lori gave me a simple square glass candy jar full of mints. Butter mints, chocolate mints, peppermint and spearmint candy filled the jar. I love soft mints to eat at church as  opposed to chewing gum. Keeps the breath “minty fresh”! However, I admit I can eat them too quickly, which makes me cough, and I am sure embarrassed the heck out of Lori.
I digress.
The best part of the gift is that she promised to keep the jar full of mints for one full year. No easy feat, but she did it. I still have the jar, and I now struggle to keep it full of mints.
Perhaps the most misunderstood gift I ever received was the year I received a blood pressure monitor. I came to learn that it was a way that Lori was telling me that she loved me and was concerned about me. I still have that gift as well. I even use it a couple of days a week.
I have many memories from before my marriage. I was lucky enough to get a Fiat hatchback when I turned 16. My dad had cast a car and a key in some sort of resin and put it under the tree. When I opened the gift, my parents opened the curtains and there is it was, a Fiat with a big red bow. I remember the year I got a Springbar Tent, a five-speed banana seat bicycle, skis, and other things. I remember way back when I was entertained by boxes, when stacked together made a store and a post office, It included pretend dry goods to sell, a cash register and even pretend coins.
There was the year that I heard banging all night long. My dad had put together a train track with buildings and trees and  mountains. Must of taken him all night long.
I remember doing similar activities. Like the year I painted a bicycle for Bret, snuck in gerbils and all the fixing’s so the boys might still believe in Santa. After all,  mom would never allow such a gift, so there must be a Santa.
Then, there are the trips to Pine Valley for the holidays. That is another blog.
Merry Christmas. May fond memories spring to mind when you look back.

It is okay to speak to strangers

I’m sure this will be for me more than you, but I hope you learn and don’t repeat my mistakes. I have a mentor who says “Rules are made to keep other people out of the way.”
He shares this along with the concept that rules don’t apply to him because he doesn’t want to be limited to another’s beliefs. Before you try to peg him a an anarchist,  he isn’t that at all. He is a loving, caring individual. He just learned to not accept limiting-beliefs. He works his hardest with me to see the error of my ways.
I don’t know where some of my limiting beliefs come from. Many I have set up myself. I have made rules that I felt I had to live by.
For instance, my daughter always struggled with my inquisitive nature when she was in high school. I wanted to know how her day ways, her friends, thoughts. She would complain that I asked too many questions. So, I made a rule with her. “No more than three questions.” It seemed to work. We’d often joke that I had my three questions, she could go on with her day un-bothered. It seemed to worked.
Now that she is grown, and on her own, I find it hard to visit with her on the phone. I am limited to asking three questions. Or so my belief tells me. We can go weeks without talking. Thank goodness for face book. I am suffering from my rule --  my limiting belief.
I wonder how many times I grew up believing an adult’s  reprimand, “You only get one.” or “You’re the oldest, so you need to share with everyone else first.” I wonder how many times I have set rules from my children, limited their belief, in a similar way, an innocent statement.
Lori and I worked hard to allow our children to explore, within reason, their talents, interests, abilities. But, looking back, I wonder how many times I set a rule that didn’t really apply to anything. A rule that wasn’t really a rule. Limiting their belief without knowing it.
It’s like the rule “Don’t talk to strangers.” Parents drill this into their kids. Teachers tell the kids to be quiet and only speak when spoken to, or raise their hand for permission to speak.
No wonder the number one fear most adults face is “public speaking“. No one ever pulled their child aside at age  19 or 21, and say “It’s now ok to speak to strangers.”
I help facilitate a simulator, a game really, that has no rules. Not that there isn’t a pattern to playing the game, but one of the first concepts I teach with this game is that “you don’t have to wait for someone else to be successful before you can be.” Players who understand what I say, start rolling the dice and moving as fast as they can.
That’s the rule I am living in 2011. I am not going to allow my limiting beliefs limit me. The rules that I believe exist to keep me in my place aren’t really rules. I hope my children don’t wait until they are my age (55) to discover their limiting beliefs. AND, if I put those beliefs there, I  truly sorry. I give them permission to “talk to strangers.”